


Mountaintop

by WhereBlueMeetsRed



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Falling In Love, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Skiing, Slow Burn, Sonadow - Freeform, at times a giant ball of fluff, more sappy than sporty tbh, pretty OOC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 02:35:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 43,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16484435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhereBlueMeetsRed/pseuds/WhereBlueMeetsRed
Summary: A champion skier gets to know his teammate, a talented rookie.





	1. Away We Go

Half past midnight was his time to call it a day.

 _Not a bad day_ , Shadow the Hedgehog reflected, staring at himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth.

All was dark and still in the suite, the group bustle having died down as each member of their party retired for the night. Most, if not all of them, were day people, but Shadow’s attempt to adjust his sleep schedule years ago did not fully take. So he learned to work in the daytime when needed while still enjoying the privacy, the room to think, that nighttime welcomed.

Today was long, he had to admit. It was training run day at the White Acropolis downhill ski venue. The sun had been bright and the air crisp, infused with the perfect nip of late-autumn chill. His run went fairly well; he felt good, his skis were natural extensions of him, and the condition of his knee was satisfactory again. Almost like he never needed rehab. Ice and heat treatments, a warm bath, and his discreet knee brace had helped even more afterwards.

Shadow gargled and spat into the sink three times, as was his custom, and ran a wet washcloth over his face. He would remove his contacts once back in his room – good thing Espio the Chameleon was a heavy enough sleeper. First, however, it was time to refill his water thermos.

He stepped out and padded down the dark hallway toward the commons area. When he saw a figure framed in the opening, he paused.

Sonic the Hedgehog sat facing the large front horizontal window, illuminated by moonlight. Shadow, seeing him in profile, became bashfully entranced, almost tempted to plaster himself against the wall so as not to disturb him.

But Espio was always better at that sort of thing anyway. Just as well, since the younger hedgehog did not feel Shadow’s presence, what with his eyes closed and headphones covering his ears. Sonic’s hands were folded over his belly and his slender legs, one bent, were stretched out on an ottoman.

Shadow didn’t expect anyone else who had a race the next day to still be awake. He felt torn – a part of him could look at Sonic all night, for he appreciated the beauty in the young man’s current meditative state. But he couldn’t help wondering why Sonic was here rather than asleep in his room.

Finally, Shadow moved from his spot, quietly walked toward Sonic, and nudged his shoulder. Sonic started, eyes flying open, his body leaning away from Shadow even as he turned stunned green eyes upon him.

Shadow gestured toward the hallway with a mild jerk of his head. “It’s late,” he murmured, apology in his baritone.

Not that Sonic needed to be told that, but the rookie still nodded sheepishly, catching his breath, fumbling with his headphones and readjusting his posture. “Yeah, right,” he said, “just trying to get my mind off things.”

Shadow blinked. “What things?”

Sonic shrugged, more out of loss for what to say than truly not knowing. “It’s just…hitting me, I guess. My first ranking _Mobius Cup_ race day. I can’t believe it.” He sighed. “Doing my very first training run was awesome, but there were a couple of spots that could’ve messed me up if I weren’t paying attention. I hope the real race goes better.”

Shadow’s brows knit slightly. For weeks Sonic had done his diligence in training and with weights. As a rookie he also posed excellent questions that Shadow was glad to answer. His eagerness to ski, his confidence, his smile – that wonderful, dazzling smile – all seemed to grow with each workout. The person before him now wasn’t the kid who nearly fainted when he witnessed how much Shadow could deadlift (more than their strength trainer Knuckles the Echidna, really, but he preferred not to make Knuckles feel bad).

Sonic’s training run was very smooth, and he appeared to enjoy it. So Shadow thought he’d overcome his nerves. And yet…

Nodding thoughtfully, Shadow lowered himself onto the opposite end of the couch, perching amiably there. After a moment, he said, “None of us ever know how race day will go. We all start somewhere.” He half-smiled. “Before my first race I trained about as much as you, and wanted a better result than what I got. But it was still something.”

Sonic’s smile this time was crooked. “And now you own every course you touch?” he said, poking harmless fun.

“Even _I_ wouldn’t say that,” Shadow chuckled amusedly. “But you do start to gain your legs after maybe the first handful of races.”

If anyone, even his best friend Rouge the Bat, had asked him just eight Mobian months ago where he’d be now, he’d have answered with a shrug, _Where I always am this time of year. Skiing. Training._ He would not have included “reaching out to befriend a new teammate” if he could help it. In his case friendship with teammates happened through no great effort on his part, he thought. Marine the Raccoon, now retired, was unflappably outgoing. Espio and Shadow thought on similar wavelengths, which made Espio naturally easy to get along with.

Sonic was…different. Twelve and a half Mobian years his junior, fresh out of upper secondary school, he was three months shy of eighteen when discovered by Shadow himself at Rouge’s ski resort. Getting to know him nudged Shadow out of his comfort zone but was surprisingly fun. Maybe it was Sonic’s inborn friendliness, in some ways akin to Marine’s. Maybe it was something else about him that drew Shadow in, like the scent of a flower drew a bee.

In all of this he remembered a major difference between himself and Sonic: while Shadow had no skiing role model, he was Sonic’s. The newcomer was probably tying himself into knots wondering how he’d stack against the veteran athlete. As promising as Sonic was, Shadow knew comparing himself to his hero in such a way wasn’t the best thing for the kid.

He looked directly at Sonic and softened his tone. “I began having no idea how world-class skiing worked, and there was no skier I looked up to. Like anyone else, I just went for it.” He shrugged for emphasis. “What was there to lose?”

The younger hedgehog processed Shadow’s words with a mild frown that didn’t linger long. Shadow could see a light bulb switch on the moment his frown lifted, and Sonic smiled softly, tilting his head.

Shadow found it…cute. Endearing, like so much about him.

“Yeah…you’re right,” Sonic agreed, sliding his legs off the ottoman, leaning forward with palms against knees. “I’m overthinking.” He gave a self-deprecating shake of his head. “Which I don’t normally do, it’s just…this is pretty much the one place I never thought I’d be.”

Shadow smiled, understanding, and spoke measuredly, “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t put in the work. I’ve seen what you can do. That’s what you bring to your races. Try not to think about standings…just stay on your skis and do what your training has taught you.”

Sonic nodded, shoulders relaxing, placated. For him, simply talking things out helped bring clarity. Shadow liked this about him; he wasn’t one to get weighed down with emotional baggage, but when it happened, a little prodding would help bring it to light, which would put it halfway toward resolution already. He was refreshingly uncomplicated in such matters, Shadow thought…and braver than he himself, whose tendency was to keep most of his life under lock and key.

He could not express, for instance, how much lighter-hearted he felt just watching Sonic. Even if he could put it in words, where would he begin?

The rookie smiled gratefully at him. “Thanks, Shadow. I think I can sleep now.” Then he frowned quizzically. “What are _you_ doing up?”

Raising his thermos, Shadow answered, “Needed water. Was doing equipment prep, but I’m heading to bed myself.”

In truth, the elder hedgehog didn’t need much sleep, at most four to five hours each night. He’d grown accustomed to this, as a lighter sleeper than most. The last time he remembered slumbering soundly through the night, he was no older than eight years of age, when he still lived with his human grandfather, Gerald, and his human sister, Maria. But Sonic didn’t need to know that now.

“Oh, okay.” Sonic stretched languidly and yawned, eliciting a soft smile from Shadow. As the blue hedgehog rose from the couch, he too smiled. “Thanks again…good night.”

He walked around behind the couch and disappeared into the hallway, as Shadow acknowledged and watched him.

Yes, the day would begin early. Racers must check in at the course two hours before start time. The team’s wakeup call would be three hours before _that_ so as to eat, do final equipment inspection, and prepare to bus to the course. Sonic would need every available drop of sleep. Should he take this seriously, he’ll learn to savor sleep.

However, Shadow still couldn’t sleep. Not that he could complain – the more time he spent in Sonic’s company, the more refreshed his soul.

He looked to the window and allowed himself a full smile.

 

“At the gate – number 023, Shadow the Hedgehog!”

His game face was on.

Most ski fans probably believed his game face to be his true face – dark heavy brow, downturned mouth, a glare that could shatter all obstacles in his path. Red-trimmed black quills swept back and upward (totally natural, a point of personal pride for him) completed his warrior-esque look.

Perhaps it _did_ correctly depict him at certain low, unsavory points in his life. Now that his lot had improved, he could say at least his team, and Rouge, knew better. But if that mug earned him fan support (and team and sponsor support, by extension), then he had no problems employing it.

Currently there was an actual obstacle before him: the White Acropolis downhill ski course. Mobius Cup races began three weeks ago, but with extra rest and knee rehabilitation, Shadow’s season was just getting started. Ineligibility for the overall title – he could not ski the full season’s schedule and therefore could not compete for it (no fur off his back, he'd earned titles aplenty) – was no excuse to let his skills go.

Game face aside, he was glad to be back.

So was Knuckles. “Yeah! You got this, Shads!” cheered the red echidna from behind him.

He kept his goggled eyes on the clock display posted to his right. When the first buzzer rang, he gripped his poles. At the second and third buzzers, he stomped to loosen his muscles.

As the last and highest-pitched buzzer sounded, he sprang forward. Knuckles whooped with joy. Tunnel vision took over.

Grey mountains loomed like sentries in the distance, but the course owned his entire focus. He swung his poles and pushed off with the right ski, left ski, right ski, left ski, then lowered into a sturdy tuck, following the blue lines painted onto the course, tilting as needed into the curves. Even though three of the first five curves were very close to each other, he sailed around them all with practiced ease as snow crackled beneath his skis, sticking close to the flags, knowing no rush like the pull of gravity and rebellion against cold wind.

Loop-the-loop six flung him upside down; he tucked in and glided through smooth as greased gears, and flew off the snow as the course dipped beneath him, leaving him airborne for seconds. He took this opportunity to untuck and gently extend his legs downward, angling his skis so they reconnected seamlessly with snow.

From there he continued down the hill, negotiating tight curves seven through nine with no trouble, bolting through corkscrew ten – a series of consecutive loop-the-loops, he really had to hold his tuck – landing just in time to zigzag through the last five curves, keeping immaculate lines all the way to the home stretch, where the cheering crowd became audible.

Outside of his own home, team training, and riding his motorcycle, he was most in his element on skis. They were now bringing him to his first finish of this season. A successful one, from the look of things. With a grin he prepared to end his run on a high note.

Crossing the finish line, he swung in a wide arc and drifted across the finish corral, kicking up a white wave to the crowd’s delight. A familiar chant rose from the stands: “ALL HAIL! SHADOW! ALL HAIL! SHADOW!” Some held banners and posters aloft, some waved shiny pom-poms, many blew horns or clanged bells…Shadow could swear he heard bagpipes from one corner. The audience thrill was palpable.

The announcer seemed to perk up as well. “In third place, Jet the Hawk. In second place, Scourge the Hedgehog. Moving into first place, Shadow the Hedgehog! Welcome back!”

While his time did not set a new record, his satisfaction was heartfelt today. With characteristic, confident reserve he smiled closed-mouthed, nodded, raised an arm and a pole in thanks. His season was beginning beautifully.

In contrast, last season he could only ski two of his three planned final Mobius Cup races. Though he finished first in both, his knee was so badly sprained after the second race that he was forced to withdraw from the third. His resilience, unusual even for a Mobian, had enabled him to enjoy sixteen remarkably injury-free years of racing before then. His team and Rouge tried to console him afterwards, insisting it was time he got more rest, at least he didn’t need surgery, he’d return better than ever, and other such platitudes.

But ski racing was Shadow’s bread and butter, his only real job ever, one at which he preferred to do his best always. Missing even one race was inexcusable to him…and humiliating, to be very honest. Mighty the Armadillo had to walk him to the on-site physician at the conclusion of that second race, _and_ he had to firmly insist on _walking_ so that Mighty wouldn’t sweep him off his feet!

That burden was clean off his shoulders as he now ambled freely to the top three finishers’ waiting area, carrying his skis and poles. He shook hands with Jet and Scourge. Both met him with professional cordiality and neither were shocked by the outcome, though faint annoyance marred Scourge’s expression.

He turned toward one of the giant, bright flat screens posted at the corral, the chatter of the crowd wafting to his ears, and waited.

About half a minute later, the announcer spoke again. “At the gate – number 024, Sonic the Hedgehog!”

Supportive cheers broke out. He watched the form of his rookie teammate atop the hill, framed by the start house portal. He was bedecked in a dark grey ski suit and white helmet identical to Shadow’s, green eyes blocked from view by opaque goggles, standing at full height and exhaling gentle steam in deep, even breaths.

The champion skier privately admitted Sonic had a tough act to follow. The teen was far from the first competitor to come down with nerves in the wake of one of Shadow’s runs. But Sonic was holding together well in light of that. He looked almost serene, flakes of snow falling like a delicate curtain before him, quills swaying in the light breeze, no sign of the previous night’s nerves manifesting.

The elder hedgehog knew better. Yet, in his opinion (which he generally kept hush), the youngster had amazing potential. On their team freshman skiers also did not compete for the overall title, as the first year was their learning and exploration period; rookies were free to decide at year’s end whether to make it their career. Shadow honestly believed Sonic had it in him to do well _and_ enjoy it.

He stared at the flat screen as if he could will peaceful thoughts into his teammate.

_No room for overthinking now…you’ll be fine, Sonic. You’ll be fine…_

The first beep sounded, from both the starting gate and the corral’s display speakers. Shadow watched Sonic grip his poles and lean forward. Somewhere in the waiting area partitioned off by the wall behind him, he knew Mighty and Espio, who finished two places behind Jet, also watched and waited.

At the second and third beeps, Sonic shifted his grip and faced forward, sights on the white expanse ahead, Knuckles audibly uplifting him as well.

At the final beep: go time. He was off like a shot.

For those first few moments, Shadow was not aware he was holding his breath. He beheld the cautious lines Sonic cut through the first five curves, mildly wobbling on his first turn, then bumping an elbow into a flag at the third – _get it together_ , thought Shadow, _build up speed on the first leg and it’ll carry you to the end_ – then his path smoothed out, skis pointed resolutely forward, and he settled into a nicer tuck than during his training run.

By curve five Shadow knew Sonic would not mess up, and he let out his breath, steam floating upward. Yes. Sonic was getting it. Getting _into_ it. Keeping his posture sturdy but flexible. Winding around the flags, perhaps not quite with Shadow’s precision but the focus was there. Spinning through loop-the-loops as if on a leisurely stroll. Suspended in midair when the path changed its downward angle, floating like a snowflake himself, landing on strong legs that were prepared to absorb the shock.

So much about ski racing was literally thinking on one’s feet in excess of eighty miles an hour. Shadow had to learn that himself once. Empathetic tension coursed through his own body as he watched Sonic.

“Wicked,” he heard Jet mutter under his breath.

He could be faster, Shadow knew it. He needed to refine his technique. For sure the kid could ski and his speed was already breathtaking. Most took years to learn what Sonic was pulling off right now. But times were recorded down to hundredths of seconds, thousandths for tiebreakers. The smallest details could make the biggest difference.

That said, he was an absolute force of nature, simply mesmerizing to watch.

The crowd agreed, shouting its approval as it waited for Sonic’s result. The only missing piece was his family, who were unable to support him in person. Home was just a time zone away, so hopefully they were present in spirit.

The happy cacophony grew louder in Shadow’s ears, yet it was all but muted in his mind as a blue blur came into view on neon green skis, dashing to the finish line. When Sonic crossed, his name and time flashed on a separate display.

“Sliding into fourth, Sonic the Hedgehog – fastest first-race finish in twelve years!” the friendly announcer stated.

…Was that a sigh of relief from Jet? No matter. It barely registered above the noisy crowd.

What did matter was the lack of disappointment in Sonic’s features as he came to a stop and saw his time. Instead, a brilliant smile of another sort of relief – along with traces of bemusement, surely he also heard the bagpipes – stretched across his face. The crowd loved that too. Lifting his goggles off his face and onto his helmet, he waved, grinning, clearly glad the race was done and that he placed higher than on his training run, when he finished seventh.

Shadow smiled as well…in fact, had been smiling unconsciously for the past minute at least, watching the newbie leave his very first official Mobius Cup mark, applauding his performance, feeling warm at the sight of his blue teammate taking it all in. It was all so new to Sonic that Shadow felt as if he, too, were seeing the event with fresh eyes. The youth’s happiness was catching. Shadow could watch him smile all day.

There were sixteen more skiers after Sonic. His first ranked race under his belt, the pleased rookie walked toward the exit gate leading to the waiting area in the back, where Mighty and Espio would no doubt receive him with congratulations.

On his way, his eyes met Shadow’s. They crinkled as his smile turned shy. He raised a hand and waved with his fingers as he passed by and, while returning the wave, Shadow was filled with warmth once more.

“Not bad for his first time,” Jet remarked next to him.

“No,” Shadow agreed in a murmur, “not bad at all.”

 

It would be three and a half more hours before Shadow reunited with his whole team. After the remaining skiers moved through the course, the results went under disqualification review by jury. A section of the finish corral was cordoned off and the exit gate blocked by security. Members of the press would be checked into this section shortly.

The first three audience rows were reserved in front for team members and family of podium finishers. Sonic, Espio, Knuckles, and Mighty sat off to the right just behind the press. At Shadow’s first glimpse of Sonic, the younger hedgehog grinned and gave him two enthusiastic thumbs up. Shadow knew Sonic could see him chuckle across the distance as he waved back. From his seat he frequently checked on his teammates during the podium ceremony set-up, watching them chat and pass the time. Sonic especially looked wonderstruck being there at all, as if the newbie hadn’t just finished fifth himself (he was bumped down one spot by skier number 033).

It brought a fond smile to the elder hedgehog’s face. If attending the ceremony amazed Sonic, how would he handle his first podium finish? That could easily happen this season.

“Guess you’re rubbing off on him,” Scourge said offhandedly to Shadow, referencing Sonic’s speed.

Shadow shrugged. “He put in his own work, just like I did mine.”

“It shows,” Jet acknowledged with grudging respect. “Wonder what it’d be like to race him one on one.”

At least Jet saw Sonic’s strength for what it was. “You could ask him,” Shadow suggested.

“Maybe I will,” the hawk said with his own shrug.

So he made occasional small talk with Jet and Scourge, whenever they weren’t talking amongst themselves. He tended not to hold himself very close to skiers outside his team. Although he wasn’t unfriendly – his teammates and Rouge did compliment his improved social skills over the past few years – gregariousness just wasn’t in his nature, and based on his observations he didn’t seem to have much in common with the others. They mostly came from stable families who willingly afforded for their children to train as elite skiers. Shadow had no idea whether his family would have done the same.

He knew luck got him in more than anything. If not for Rouge’s connection with Ray the Flying Squirrel, he might not be here now. Rouge, a champion ski jumper in her day, had the fortuity to train alongside Ray in the last three years of his career, and they’d built good camaraderie. Rouge already knew Shadow was an excellent skier. In the month before his fifteenth birthday she’d recommended him to Ray, who by then was running a young ski racing team with his best friend Mighty.

Ray and Mighty liked his potential. The rest was history.

Well, not that alpine skiing had much history anywhere on Mobius even up to this point. Mobius-Earth relations only began some fifty Mobian years ago. From older articles Shadow read, a great deal changed since; Shadow observed waves of cultural and technological shifts in his own three decades. Alpine skiing was among several sports imported from Earth that Mobians made their own. It was viewed as countercultural around the time of his birth. Now, it was gaining recognition and respect across the planet.

It grew up with him, in a sense. Shadow supposed he should be glad he caught onto it when he did. In the beginning, however, he just needed money. Every competitor who placed in the top 20 won prize money. The higher the placement, the bigger the purse. Rouge supported him early on with her ski jump winnings. He would always be grateful for that, but he didn’t want to depend on her forever. He wanted to hold his own.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a spokeswoman’s voice nudged Shadow out of his recollections, “the jury has found no disqualifications in today’s event. The ceremony may now begin.”

Shadow sat up straighter, as did Jet and Scourge. Right. Time to get on with it.

 

Afterwards, three operations personnel members escorted Shadow and Mighty to the gymnasium, the press conference site. Only one teammate could accompany each skier. For their team, it was usually Mighty.

“Back in excellent form,” said the team co-owner, clapping him on the shoulder, “just like always.”

“Thank you,” replied Shadow with a genuine smile. “It felt good.”

“How’s the knee?”

“Maybe a little sore,” the skier admitted.

“I could have Sonic do the honor of drawing you a bath,” grinned Mighty. “That would make his day. He’s been stoked about everything here.”

Shadow chuckled. “He worked hard too, I’m pretty sure he needs a warm bath himself.”

“Honestly, I can barely tell. He looks like he can ski this course another five times today.”

The elder hedgehog smiled as he remembered their talk. Clearly the kid left his nerves far behind. “Then this will be a very good season.”

 

The roomy lodge was filled with visitors on the first floor, and ski teams at rest on the second. Staff and security guarded the foot of the stairs leading up to the second floor, as well as the double doors into the second-floor lounge area. When Shadow and Mighty entered after the conference, a congratulatory cheer burst forth from excited fans. Shadow offered a graceful nod and wave before heading upstairs.

They found Espio, Knuckles, and Sonic in a corner, each sipping hot chocolate, all relaxed on a cushioned bench near a fireplace.

Espio saw them first, and rose from his seat. “Good to have you back,” he said with a broad smile, hugging Shadow with a brotherly arm.

“Toldja you got this,” agreed Knuckles with an amiable fist bump.

And Sonic, now standing too, looked prouder of him than he remembered anyone looking in a good while. It was an unexpectedly welcome sight.

Most of the alpine ski community, including Shadow himself if he was completely frank, were accustomed to him winning. Everyone was shocked when he withdrew from his last race the previous season. Shadow the Hedgehog never _missed_ a race. Yet he was out for the beginning of this season, and no one knew what condition he’d be in for his comeback.

He was back now, and if the look in the blue hedgehog’s eyes was true, Sonic did not doubt him once.

He opened his arms and embraced the youth, for that was an honor to him.

“Congratulations,” Sonic said companionably.

“Thank you,” said Shadow, pulling back a bit, “and _you_ did very well. Gaining your legs already.”

“Guess I’m starting to,” agreed Sonic with a grin. “Thanks for that.”

The black hedgehog shook his head, half-smiling. “Who knows? You might be the fastest thing alive one day.”

“At least the fastest thing on skis,” added Mighty.

“Maybe the buffest thing on skis too, I can make that my mission,” offered Knuckles in jest.

Sonic laughed loud. “Then you can set my workouts to the sickest bagpipe jams!”

That sent everyone into giggle fits and further chatter as they began to pack up their things. Shadow just grinned, the mere sound of Sonic’s laughter brightening him up beyond words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the first chapter. :) 
> 
> A few things I should disclose…
> 
> My approach to characterizing goes three ways: canon-inspired bits happen in the past (things they’ve moved on from), in the future (what they’re being shaped into), and/or is part of their core public persona. In between these there’s wiggle room where I exercise liberties, I guess. I'm also fairly new to Sonic fandom and am not sure I know the characters that well yet...
> 
> No interplanetary conflict, no Eggman, not much tech even, so stakes aren’t that high. The two-worlds thing I don’t necessarily subscribe to canonically, but I thought it’d be interesting here as a background detail.
> 
> So this story is pretty slice-of-life because I don’t trust myself with anything more complex! Really, it exists because the image of Sonic decked in ski racing gear burned itself into my head one day, and my heart craves sappy Sonadow. Don’t quite know what I’m doing beyond that. ^_^;


	2. Fullness

Three weeks and another race later, Shadow bumped into Rouge at Sky High Ski Resort.

She was already there, of course. The resort was among her brightest jewels. She once proclaimed the three best decisions she ever made in her life were (in no particular order) taking Shadow under her wing one week before his twelfth birthday, becoming Knuckles’ girlfriend, and buying and renovating Sky High.

With regards to Sky High, Shadow didn’t blame Rouge. What was a run-down and nearly abandoned little ski lodge became a thriving, all-ages local winter haven under Rouge’s ownership. She’d risked almost all of her ski jump savings at that point to buy the property, because she saw that it could be more than what it was.

That was where most days would find her and Knuckles, and today, Shadow nearly ran into her as he opened the back door.

“Sorry, hon! Gotta make a little supply run,” she said. “Do you need anything in town?”

“No, I’m good,” he said, arching a quizzical brow. “What are you out of?”

The bat rolled her eyes. “Would you believe paper clips? Just about the last thing I’d thought we’d need more of. Someone’s making too many chains.”

“You might find a mini sculpture buried somewhere,” the hedgehog deadpanned.

“It was _you_ , then!” Rouge playfully pointed at him.

Now Shadow rolled his eyes. “Paper clips aren’t my décor of choice, thank you. Nowhere on my helmet to hang them.”

“More for my paperwork, then,” grinned Rouge as she headed out the door. “Ta.”

“Later.”

He walked further down the corridor to an elevator. As he waited for the doors to open, he appreciated once more that Rouge, with the whole team’s input, decided to incorporate a professional-grade training room into the floor plan. It was a big help to Ray and Mighty, enabling them to better equip their skiers, and it gave the whole team a place to retreat.

The doors opened and he stepped in. When he pressed the B (for basement) button, a square screen above the buttons lit up. He pressed his whole palm against it until the light turned green. Then the doors closed, and he descended smoothly. The training room level had staff-only clearance so that the team could work out all week there in peace.

The doors opened again, and he walked out into another corridor that led to a closed door with a rectangular window in its upper half. Hoisting his gym bag over his shoulder, he looked through the window, and smiled.

_Thump, thump, THUMP._

On that cue, he opened the door.

The room was not extraordinarily large. But it had a high ceiling and was large enough to accommodate all classes of weights, punching bags, stationary bicycles, and tumbling mats. Sonic was currently taking full advantage of an unfolded mat. He had just completed a tumbling pass, some of which involved no hands touching the mat, that Shadow didn’t want to interrupt.

He was impressed. “I didn’t know you took gymnastics.”

Sonic started mildly; his back had been facing the door, and in the throes of his jumps and twists, he hadn’t watched for anyone to appear behind him. But he turned toward Shadow and smiled in a sheepish way while shrugging off his feat. “Not gymnastics, that’s Sonia’s thing. Just tumbling. It’s one way my parents tried to wear me out when I was little.”

Shadow’s smile became a full grin, because the mental image of Sonic as a blue whirlwind of a hedgehog boy was clear and much too precious. “So you never lost touch with your inner kid?” he teased lightly.

“I was wanting to see what I could still do. It’s been years,” the teen admitted, a flush tingeing his pale cheeks as he rubbed the quills on his head.

“I couldn’t tell,” Shadow assured him. He wasn’t trying to call his teammate out for any reason; sometimes he forgot Sonic still put him on a pedestal, by habit if nothing else. “What else do you remember?”

Sonic said with a scrunch of his brow, “I guess I can try somersaults. Something that doesn’t get me injured.”

“Hopefully not,” agreed Shadow, and watched Sonic do his thing.

The younger hedgehog’s performance here displayed the upturn in his fitness, and it took him time to achieve. He didn’t rise to the occasion so well in the very beginning. While Shadow stopped batting an eye at team workouts many years ago, the intensity and dedication required nearly overwhelmed the newcomer during his first month.

Sonic never once breathed a word of complaint, maybe didn’t want to appear weak in front of the pros, but he struggled. At times it was written all over his face and posture, evidence of the performance level gap between his high school track team and a professional alpine ski team. Both Shadow and Espio provided encouragement when they could, recalling when they first started, confirming to him that, yes, this is just what it takes to become a Mobius-class athlete, and it’s hard. Stick with it and see where it takes you this season.

Their unspoken statement: _Look where we are now. You might get there too, if you’re patient._

Sometime in the summer, maybe two weeks after he turned eighteen, it clicked for Sonic. The difference was night and day. He went from all but moping to chin up, back straight, striding into the training room with determination sparkling in his eyes. He pushed himself harder than he’d ever wanted to before, hoping to last as long as Shadow and Espio each day. In a stroke of perhaps symbolic timing, he also experienced a growth spurt – now he was exactly Shadow’s height.

It all drew Shadow’s attention for sure, though he tried to be discreet about it. Espio and Knuckles, as well as Mighty and Ray, had been quicker to congratulate Sonic for his improvement. At the end of one day Shadow did get to sit down with Sonic, one-on-one, and remark on the change. “What happened?” he’d asked.

Sonic’s momentarily self-conscious smile was accompanied by a thoughtful shrug. A few seconds’ silence hung between them before he spoke. “I’d been talking to my family a lot. Venting, sometimes,” he admitted. “They’d hear me out and, at the same time, remind me this was a commitment I made. And after a while of that I realized…I’m not a little kid anymore.” He looked at Shadow, and to the elder hedgehog it was as if Sonic were blooming into his true self right then and there. “I’m not a baby. I can do this.”

He was proud of Sonic and had said so, earning a smile of genuine gratitude that Shadow didn’t want to look away from.

That talk seemed so long ago. Now he watched the young man with fascination, admiring the speed in his spins, the graceful lines that Sonic’s body formed in motion.

Sonic was finishing a series of front somersaults. When he landed neatly, Shadow applauded.

“You’ll master loop-the-loops by the end of this season,” he said. After a pause, he felt shyness creep into him. Still, he added quietly, “You have great form.”

“I do?” said a surprised Sonic, smiling in near-timidity. “Thank you…”

The elder hedgehog nodded with approval. Day by day the rookie was growing secure in his place on the team. That didn’t preclude the fleeting bashfulness that popped up whenever Shadow complimented him. If Shadow were honest with himself, his heart had developed a soft spot for that reaction.

Meanwhile, Espio the Chameleon was dragging a heavy punching bag stand, shifting it to a patch of clear floor space. Sonic trotted over to help. “Got more moves for us?” he grinned while hefting the pole alongside his teammate.

“Knuckles should be here soon,” replied Espio, his voice deep and clear. “So just a quick review for now. I want to see how well you retained your last lesson.” He winked a golden eye before looking toward Shadow. “And _you_ should be able to try a few punches, maybe a kick if you’re up for it.”

“Yes, master.” Shadow’s smile was wry as he set down his gym bag. Steeped though his family was in martial arts, Espio had only returned to the craft within the last three years, roughly. His love for it rekindled, and this season he began to teach his teammates. Shadow did feel a sense of calm empowerment through these lessons.

While the black hedgehog occupied one side of his body with a standing quad stretch, Espio prompted Sonic, “Let’s see your snap kick. Front or side, doesn’t matter.”

Shadow watched with interest as Sonic assumed a deceptively relaxed stance in front of the punching bag – strong as well as lithe, he thought in appreciation. As he switched to his other quad, Sonic performed a textbook-perfect one-footed pivot that led right into a side kick at chest level, the force of which bent the bag hard. He went at it four more times, a satisfied grunt accompanying each.

“Good, good!” Espio commended with a few claps, and Shadow added his own applause. Sonic, who bowed deep at the waist, had proved a quick study in a number of things. The fact of him having fun was a lovely bonus – at least it was for Shadow, who got to see that smile of accomplishment once more as Sonic righted himself.

Thankfully they didn’t have to learn the way Espio did when young, by kicking apart wooden boards; their feet were spared for races.

Then, Espio turned to Shadow with his own smile. “Any combination you want.”

In an instant Sonic moved aside, with that certain shyness that charmed Shadow. It wasn’t born of weakness; the youth had just now shown he wasn’t weak. No, it was rooted in a newcomer’s awe and appreciation, and…something else Shadow couldn’t quite place.

He was pokerfaced, but still charmed.

Just one kick shouldn’t hurt with his knee brace on. Doing a last standing stretch and gently shaking his leg out, Shadow assented, “All right.”

He walked to the punching bag, bounced light on his feet, raised loosely curled hands, and pivoted his front foot into position, the whole stance returning to him as if he’d done it all his life. He threw a few well-aimed menacing punches into the bag. Then, in a blink, he turned and unleashed a harsh shoulder-level roundhouse kick, his grunt echoing as he exhaled.

“Well done!” applauded Espio, happy with the execution.

He and Espio exchanged deep bows before he turned his gaze to Sonic...and smiled. The delighted spectator had placed a palm against his own chest, all but fanning himself. The light blush on his muzzle told Shadow his gesture is not ironic.

Shadow couldn’t help but grin. This was just a hobby Espio roped the team into. The ebony hedgehog never expected to feel proud of himself over a simple kick. But, in this moment, Sonic’s face made it so worthwhile.

Then the door to the training room opened.

“Hey guys,” greeted Knuckles, who set down his gym bag by the door. “Sorry I’m late. Was helping Rouge herd paperwork upstairs.”

All his teammates greeted him as well, and they began the day’s warm-up.

 

They sweated on stationary bikes, jump ropes, tires for further leg training, kettlebells, medicine balls, the pull-up station, the bench press, and more, exercising different parts of the body and reflexes in two-hour segments throughout the day. Knuckles wasn’t a skier, but he also wasn’t a drill sergeant; he was on the floor and working out alongside the skiers for the simple love of it. He played upbeat music that Sonic breakdanced to in between exercises here and there, to the entertainment of his team – music flowed through his veins, it seemed. All in all they knew how to keep each other going.

They also welcomed Rouge’s lunchtime visit, during which she brought much-appreciated protein-rich food. That doubled as her chance to join Espio’s afternoon martial arts session; she was arguably the most skilled kicker after Espio, winning everyone over, especially Knuckles.

At day’s end and once the resort was closed, the team and Rouge went to dinner at a restaurant Espio’s friend ran. Espio called to invite his housemates, Vector the Crocodile and Charmy Bee, while Sonic called his parents to let them know where he’d be.

Vector, Charmy, Mighty and Ray met them there. Espio’s friend, an electric blue skink with whom the chameleon spoke earlier in the day, had reserved the back room for them. Thankfully the room was large, sufficient for a group of nine that included a crocodile nearly double everyone else’s height. He had the appetite to match, too.

It was two weeks before winter solstice, ideal for a cuisine of pot-boiled meat and vegetables with condiments from overseas. The group were allowed two hours to cook and eat as much of whatever they wanted. It was a good meal and a good time for all – Vector pal’d around with everyone, Rouge snuggled with Knuckles, Shadow taught Sonic (new to the hot pot scene) how to use various utensils and condiments.

“I know you’ve been winning like a fiend, but don’t you _dare_ try to treat us again, Espio,” warned Ray, playfully, toward the end of the meal.

It was true: Espio’s season was incredible so far. He had admitted to working himself harder due to Shadow’s injury and Sonic being new. The result was he won with more consistency than he had in about five seasons. In his career he’d earned four overall Mobius Cup titles, and could be on the way to his fifth.

But he shrugged off Ray’s “demand.” “It’s no trouble. Besides, coming here was my idea. Let me thank you for joining me.”

“Coming here was a brilliant idea, and _we_ should be thanking _you_ ,” insisted Mighty, Ray nodding stridently next to him.

“I’m happy to do this,” replied Espio, his mouth amiably quirked. “Why not share my spoils?”

“You could save it up,” offered Sonic.

“Weren’t you thinking about maybe starting your own martial arts school one day? That’s worth saving up for,” Shadow pointed out, and Sonic grinned at his solidarity.

Espio rolled his eyes in mock exasperation – probably thinking _Damn your memory_ , Shadow figured. “How about I cover half and you guys pick up the rest?”

Laughing at his housemate’s stubbornness, Vector clapped Espio on the back. “How about this: You skiing awesome makes everybody here look good, so now we get to chip in and make _you_ look good. It’s all even!”

That roused the entire group to cheers and applause, Sonic high-fiving Vector while Espio shot him an annoyed look. But it faded as he shook his head and smiled in surrender. Really, that was a nice argument coming from Vector, ever struggling with lack of funds and failed start-up ideas. Though Shadow didn’t know him well, he’d seen the crocodile prove himself a good housemate and friend over the years.

They paid with a handsome tip (blocking Espio from that too) and left with animated chatter before hugging and parting ways. Shadow had driven Sonic, Rouge and Knuckles from the resort. They piled shivering into his car, Knuckles looping his arm around Rouge’s shoulders in the back seat.

“I am so thankful you’re a block of warm muscle, babe,” purred Rouge.

Out of the corner of his eye, Shadow spied Sonic covering his mouth with an expression best described as _D’awww_. He himself couldn’t resist a smile as he pulled out of their parking space.

“Anything for you, milady,” replied Knuckles languidly, “though half of me is food right now.”

“I totally get why the limit is two hours,” groaned Sonic. “Great food, but so _much_.”

“We all packed away a good amount,” agreed Knuckles. “Then again, we also worked pretty hard today.”

“But it still didn’t feel like we were in there two whole hours. Went by like nothing.” In the rear-view mirror, Shadow saw Rouge nudge Knuckles with a fond smile. “It’s true what they say. ‘Time stops when you’re in love.’”

“There was plenty to love about that dinner, for sure,” winked the echidna.

“Oh you,” Rouge playfully swatted her boyfriend.

“I kid, I kid,” Knuckles hugged the bat closer to himself. “Yeah, good times tonight. We don’t do this as often as we used to.”

“Don’t forget our solstice potluck next week,” Rouge reminded him.

“Oh yeah, the potluck!” said Sonic.

“For solstice _and_ the occasion of Shadow’s birthday.”

Shadow groaned in the middle of shifting gears. “Rouge, don’t remind me. I’ve had too many birthdays.”

Sonic blinked. “You’re a solstice baby too?”

Shadow smiled, remembering the younger hedgehog’s birthday was at the start of summer. “In the winter, but yes.”

“Maybe we should do summer solstice potlucks,” suggested Knuckles. “More reason to fire up my grill.”

“I don’t know how I could’ve forgotten your birthday was around this time.” Sonic shook his head ruefully. “Guess I kept better track of your other stats…”

“Which is how I prefer it these days,” chuckled Shadow.

He was pulling into the resort parking lot now, empty but for two cars huddled next to a light pole. Once Shadow parked next to Sonic’s car, a sporty blue sedan bought used, Rouge and Knuckles exited to their car with fond farewells.

“I wouldn’t say you’ve had too many birthdays,” Sonic murmured with a smile, returning to that topic.

“I’ll never have fewer than you,” said Shadow, half-smiling. “But…it’s true that I didn’t always _feel_ this way. Wanted to get older and independent faster when I was a teenager. If that’s where you are, then I understand.”

“Well, I’m kind of okay where I am…not that it wouldn’t be cool to be where _you_ are.” While Sonic stated this casually, his tone conveyed high esteem for Shadow. “I’m not sure I see myself going where you’ve gone, doing everything you’ve done.”

Shadow paused, weighing his next words. He’d known Sonic for three-quarters of a year now. In his heart he felt he could share a little bit more about himself. “In some respects, that’s good.”

Sonic frowned. “What do you mean?”

The elder hedgehog sighed. “I was raised by humans, a man and his granddaughter. But they died…before their time. After that I went to an orphanage but then became a runaway for two years, got into things I shouldn’t’ve, until Rouge found me.” Gazing at Sonic, he said sincerely, “I’m glad you’re here now, without that kind of baggage.”

The younger hedgehog opened his mouth, and Shadow could see inquisitiveness in his eyes, bright as stars, it seemed, even in his car’s nighttime interior. Then he closed his mouth again and brushed his own gaze aside. Shadow knew that he didn’t want to pry.

Instead he said with a quiet dignity, “We all make mistakes. And you had to be young.”

Shadow grimaced. “Old enough to know better.”

“It doesn’t seem like life gave you a lot of good options,” Sonic came to his defense.

“My best option would have been to stay put at the orphanage,” Shadow admitted, hindsight being what it was. “I could’ve been more patient. Waited however long I needed to for a family.”

After another moment’s hesitation, Sonic said, very softly, “It had to be hard…to be happy where you were. Without your people.”

That hit the mark. Shadow closed his eyes and lowered his head, thankful that Sonic valued family just as much. “Yeah,” he acknowledged, looking at his own hands. “It was.”

But in his mind he also chided himself for not being “over it.” He was _thirty_ , for crying out loud – not an old man, but also not a child. One reason he sought to rise as a skier was to show himself he could afford to cut losses, leave his past behind, start a new life. Yet here he was, back to square one, mourning the family that no longer was.

He felt cold enough to shiver despite the heater running, until a kind hand was lain on his shoulder.

Looking up, he gazed again into Sonic’s eyes, still bright but now with conviction. “Then I don’t blame you for leaving the orphanage. For doing what you thought you had to. And…and you fought to survive. That’s a lot for any kid.” He paused, and his voice was tinged with affection when he spoke again. “Baggage or not, I’m glad you’re here now too. I’m glad you made it.”

He smiled and squeezed Shadow’s shoulder, and Shadow felt a renewed flicker of hope.

_I’m not a baby. I can do this._

If things had gone any differently, he might not have pursued a skiing career, might not have met the people who became his teammates, might not be here in his car with an inspiring young hedgehog named Sonic, who lit a candle in his heart with his smile alone.

He would not trade this moment for anything whatsoever.

“Thank you,” he replied, simple and with understated feeling.

They talked for another half hour or so, Sonic curled in his seat and Shadow with contentment, until the blue hedgehog noticed how long Shadow’s engine had been idling. Shadow indeed undertook all basic vehicle maintenance himself and kept fastidious records for both his car and his motorcycle. But tonight he thought his car could run on fumes, for all he cared, when Sonic gave him an enormous hug good night, a hug that just didn’t last long enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this chapter!
> 
> About birthdays: Early on in my research I found a page that gave Sonic’s birthday as 23 June and Shadow’s as 23 December. Not sure if that’s actual canon, and can’t find the page anymore, but I liked it and ran with it.


	3. Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter more or less continues the food, friends, and fluff in the previous one. Athletes have appetites. ;)

The tough spot was just before the final loop-the-loop. Completing the rotation from an incline was always harder if the skier lacked speed. He glided nicely, but would he do it?

 _Yes._ Through that last loop, and to the straightaway before the finish. Speed was his.

The fall line, or the most direct route down the slope, was normally tricky on this venue. But today he took right to it. Satisfaction rose as he charged forward, wondering whether he could beat Espio’s time.

“In third place, Wave the Swallow! Moving into second place, Shadow the Hedgehog! Remaining as our leader, Espio the Chameleon!”

The sable hedgehog shook his head as he caught his breath. Missed the top spot by 0.012 seconds. Still, as he raised his arm to chanting fans, he harbored no ill will against his compatriot.

His own run nonetheless went very well, if he said so himself. This course was one of the steeper ones and among the most crash-prone. A handful of skiers had found themselves wrenched from the race before Shadow’s turn. But he loved the challenge – defying gravity, honing his landing aim, calculating the angles of his carves and swerves, everything. The weather’s cooperation didn’t hurt; temperatures were dropping as time stretched towards the apex of winter, but only enough to keep snow solid, not to the point of freezing. Adding to the scene was a blue sky strewn with white clouds that looked like wispy paint strokes.

Anyone not hitting the slopes in any fashion today was missing out, in his opinion. He enjoyed it all.

Today, however, his longtime teammate bested him at their race. Yet his lone regret was displacing his _new_ teammate.

Taking leave of his former third-place standing, Sonic offered Espio a quick hug, and Wave a warm shake of her hand, before stepping out of the top three finishers’ box. He raised an appreciative hand to the audience, sections of which boosted him with jaunty cheers. Ski aficionados who watched his brief post-race interviews loved his humorous aplomb, especially when he was self-deprecating (“Happens to me all the time,” he once laughed at having tripped on his own skis), so already he’d gained some fan allegiance.

Then he turned to Shadow making his way over and his grin, if possible, brightened.

Shadow was grinning himself, though with more apology. He couldn’t exactly gloat over this. But Sonic took it in stride and congratulated him with a warm hug.

“Sorry,” Shadow chuckled as he hugged Sonic too.

Sonic’s laugh was easy as he invoked a well-known fan moniker for the veteran skier. “You’re the Ultimate Racer. I’ll live.”

The younger hedgehog gave him a friendly pat on the torso before he left. With a light heart, Shadow went to greet Espio and Wave.

 

Three days later he stood over a pot of chowder, tasting his creation from a wooden spoon.

Rouge and Knuckles’ home smelled like a steakhouse. Knuckles’ homemade marinade coated meat that was about to be done just right. The echidna went all out today with three racks of ribs, spicy poultry, and the finest cuts of steak from downtown. He chatted with Rouge as she tossed a salad nearby.

His own chowder was just right too, Shadow decided, satisfied with the salt and sweet balance, and the softened morsel of potato in his mouth. He had developed some culinary talents as well. The early years spent with Rouge were his crucible, because to this day Rouge disliked cooking. She didn’t force him to cook, but they needed to eat, for Chaos’ sake!

Though his beginnings were humble, over time his interest grew and his taste buds sharpened, and he made dishes that he was proud of. Winter solstice happened to be the perfect time for chowder.

He turned off the fire under his pot and looked out the window. The orange light of sunset glowed through chinks formed by tree branches outside the backyard. A glance at the wall clock informed him the others were running minutes late, but he knew they would arrive shortly.

“I’m going out front,” he announced.

“Okay,” said Rouge and Knuckles in unison.

Stepping onto the porch, now donning his overcoat and gloves, he took a deep breath of chilly evening air.

It was a peaceful and private area, surrounded by tall, needle-leaved trees that shielded them from intrusion. He himself lived just up the street. In fact, his house and Rouge’s were the only ones on this chunk of property adjacent to the ski resort, tucked away in the back. This well-forested but otherwise empty plot of land was included with the resort. Rouge noted the option to expand in the future if she wished.

When Sky High began turning steady profits, she decided on another plan: a new home next door. At that time they lived in a cramped apartment half an hour outside of town, which wasn’t terrible, but setting up a home right by Sky High enabled her to oversee it more regularly. Once the work of budgeting and floor planning and building and moving were done, it took a great load of stress off both their shoulders.

The following year, Rouge got the idea to have a home built for Shadow too, further back on the property. He gave thorough input on the design and layout of the house (one story with high ceilings, three bedrooms, and a two-car garage), and made sure his ski race winnings covered the full cost. He was not an extravagant spender, so his savings were considerable.

He’d lived on his own for over three years now, enjoying the peace, the space, the convenience. The timing was nice, too; Rouge and Knuckles had just begun dating. Knuckles would move in with Rouge a few short months later.

He breathed in and out again, closing his eyes in relaxation.

A whirring sound, that of the nondescript brown rolling gate opening around the bend, caught his ear; Rouge had let their guests in. Moments later two cars rolled smoothly up the road toward Shadow. He saw Espio in the driver’s seat of the car in front and waved, walking down the porch steps as both cars proceeded onto Rouge’s driveway.

Vector and Charmy clambered out of their car once Espio parked. Well, Vector did. Charmy floated out of the backseat on buzzing wings, offering a friendly wave.

The other car was driven by Mighty, with Ray next to him. Mighty parked, Ray opened his door and exited, and Sonic, slender even in his overcoat, emerged from behind the squirrel’s seat.

“I can already _smell_ dinner!” Vector exulted.

Sonic sniffed the air too, and his expression became amazed. “Oh, Chaos. Rouge and Knuckles could run a restaurant.”

Shadow’s smile grew as he approached Sonic and stood close to him. “Feeding us _is_ a big job. But you’re all helping tonight.”

“They’re putting on the finishing touches, I take it?” Ray asked while Mighty opened the trunk, where their appetizers were stored.

“Just about,” affirmed Shadow. “Shouldn’t be long now.”

As Espio opened his trunk, his fellow reptile stooped down to grasp a handful of snow. “Nice and clean,” Vector observed. Then his look turned sly as he glanced at Espio and, with a smirk, dabbed a small mound of snow on one of the chameleon’s purple head fins.

Espio’s eyes popped open wide as he shook off the icy sensation. “ _Vector_!” he griped, putting a hand to his fin.

Vector’s grin exposed two full rows of pointy teeth as he waved the leftover snow in his hand. “There’s more where that came from,” he teased.

But the crocodile failed to react to a buzz from behind, and so could not avoid the lump of snow that splatted on his head. Charmy’s cackle permeated the air. “ _Plenty_ more!” he agreed.

“Hey!” Vector stomped off after the capricious bee, who still giggled like mad. He picked up handful after handful of snow, lobbing at but repeatedly missing Charmy. Vector’s snowballs could flatten Charmy if they met their mark.

“Get back here, you!” shouted Vector, laughter bubbling in his tone.

Espio crossed his arms in amusement, a smirk having risen on his own face. Naturally he made no move to assist Vector. Mighty rolled his eyes in long-suffering humor as he hefted his appetizer tray and walked toward the porch, Ray following not far behind with two gift bags.

Meanwhile, “whimsical” was not a typical descriptor for Shadow the Hedgehog. But in this instant such an idea sprang up inside him, and he looked over at Sonic with an impudent arch of his brow. Sonic caught it and canted his head, curious bemusement coloring his features, especially his smile.

That settled it. Shadow bent down, swiftly gathered a snowball in his hands, and took a few steps forward. Today’s snow being quite fresh and packable, it made a nice, dense, perhaps lethal throwing ball. Perfect.

His target was Vector, big and somewhat slow, albeit dogged when it came to giving Charmy tit-for-tat. Hitting him would be simple fun, Espio would appreciate the back-up, and Sonic…well, it brought out his smile already, which alone was worth it.

He got out far enough from the house but not too close to Vector and Charmy, their shouts echoing in the dusk, so they wouldn’t suspect he was about to take a shot. As surreptitiously as he could, he eyeballed Vector and wound up his throwing arm.

Just as he was set to launch…a big one, a fast one, was driven into his shoulder from behind.

He turned in a flash. Who dared?!

His eyes widened at none other than Sonic, standing on the snow-covered front lawn, looking both pleased with himself _and_ sheepish. He could not fathom how Sonic managed that.

It didn’t matter. Shadow pushed aside his shock and wagged his head half-playfully, one corner of his mouth quirked, his eyes speaking retribution. Rookie or not, he couldn’t let this live!

Reading this, Sonic crouched in expectation of a snow onslaught, readying his hands to shovel up more snow. Shadow gave him credit for a brave last stand. What he didn’t foresee, however, was Shadow turning _himself_ into a projectile weapon – the black hedgehog bodily launched at his target from a few yards away.

“AH!” cried Sonic, more delighted than anything else, as he was tackled to the ground. After a moment he wriggled away from Shadow, sweeping himself to one side with impressive speed. But the persistent elder chased and leapt on Sonic again, shifting his weight and pinning down the blue hedgehog at the wrists. The slushy snow there, and Espio’s chuckle ringing out, added to the childlike feeling that overtook both hedgehogs as they laughed and play-wrestled on the lawn.

“What’s got into you boys? Break it up, dinner’s ready.”

Shadow and Sonic paused, catching their breath, and turned towards Rouge on the top step of the porch, a loose hand rested on her leggings-clad hip, eyes sparkling with mirth. “I’m sure you’ve worked up an appetite with that,” she quipped.

With a lazy smile, Espio closed his trunk and made his way to the house carrying a casserole tray, three gift bags hanging off his elbow. Vector and Charmy, hearing Rouge even from their distance, began to head back. Shadow rose from his haunches to help a sniggering Sonic to his feet.

“Thanks for the save!” Vector winked at Sonic as he jogged to the front door.

Shaking his head, Shadow looked at Sonic. “Your arm is too good,” he said, his tone fond.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” Sonic laughed boyishly. “You were right there.”

The younger hedgehog was slow to release Shadow’s hand. When he did, and turned to enter the house, Shadow found in himself a strange emptiness. He shook it off and followed Sonic in, gloved hands tucked into coat pockets.

 

“…and you know what he said then? ‘I thought it was for a _calico_ , not a _rhino_!’”

The whole table cracked up. “Who gets _those_ confused?!” Knuckles chortled.

“ _He_ did, I guess! I doubt the rhino was happy!” said Ray with a belly laugh.

“All he can do is give it a good stretch, maybe wear it on his horn,” joked Mighty.

“Or on his ear. An ear sock. Poor guy,” giggled Charmy.

“Ear _warmer_. More layers around here never hurt,” chuckled Rouge. “They could just make him another, if he’s still up for doing business with them.”

“Could be a way to diversify,” grinned Ray.

Rouge and Knuckles invited people over just a few times a year. Usually it was for winter sport purposes, related to either skiing or ski jumping. No matter what, they knew how to make the environment relaxing, and there was always enough room – Rouge grew up in hard times and had dreamed of owning a spacious, two-story house since she was a little girl.

The dining room everyone occupied now was lit with a warm ambience. It contained an extendable oval table made of a deep brown wood. The whole crowd fit comfortably around it, seated in matching thick-cushioned chairs. Some of their entrees sat in the middle of the table largely within reach. They were at the end of their substantial meal, for the most part. Even Vector was satisfied; Ray had joked earlier that at least they all got to try one rib.

As Ray’s story of a ski suit fitting blunder wound down, an also-chuckling Sonic turned to Shadow and said, “I _have_ to have another bowl of chowder. Seriously the best ever.”

Shadow nodded with a pleased smile as Sonic moved his seat back and stood up. He watched the blue hedgehog even as conversation turned to the chowder and the group bestowed plentiful compliments on Shadow having outdone himself. Sonic grinned as he listened while ladling his bowl to its fullest. When he almost overdid it, he craned his neck and raised the bowl so he could sip the excess off the top.

Somehow, his deeply satisfied expression meant more than boatloads of compliments.

But the ebony hedgehog nodded along with the table talk, thanking everyone, explaining how long he kept the pot on simmer and the seasonings he used. Sonic sat back down and relished every remaining spoonful from his bowl. That was gratifying to watch, even from the corner of Shadow’s eye.

Then Mighty glimpsed the wall clock above and behind Shadow. “Think Marine’s waiting for us already.”

Chairs shuffled as the group rose to pick up used flatware and bowls, mindfully depositing them in the sink whilst keeping up their chatter. They drifted over to the living room where Rouge’s laptop already sat open on an ottoman in one corner. The bat dialed into her telecommunications software once the speakers and microphone were tested. It was answered after two rings, and the image that popped onto the screen was of a vivacious Mobian raccoon in a wide-brimmed straw hat and a summer dress. A tall glass filled with some iced pink beverage sat before her on a table. In the background was a magnificent blue sky with trees and sails lining the horizon, nudged here and there by what appeared to be a pleasant breeze.

Marine the Raccoon was the picture of joy, and her greeting was immediate. “Hey mates! Long time no see!”

Everyone greeted Marine in kind, glad to see their former teammate looking healthy. “Hey Marine! How’re the high seas?” asked Mighty, while Rouge scooted backwards to the coffee table so she wouldn’t block Marine’s view of the whole gathering.

Marine laughed lightly. “I’m ashore these next few days, actually. Gotta patch a few spots on her.”

Sonic turned to Shadow with questioning eyes. “She means her boat,” Shadow whispered to Sonic, who nodded.

“But it’s so good to be back on Southern Island again!” the raccoon continued, ecstatic.

“Aw, but we miss you!” Ray piped up. “It’s harder to finish up the steak without you!”

Marine groaned in semi-mock disappointment. “I _knew_ I missed something there – Knuckles, your barbie skills have my mouth watering already!”

Knuckles preened himself in good humor. “I can try shipping some over if you want.”

“Or you’ll just have to come back and visit ASAP. You’ll get it fresh,” grinned Mighty.

With a giggle Marine replied, “I’ll see what I can do. But there’re so many other places to explore…”

She went on to tell of some sailing exploits, where she’d been and where she’d like to go. The raccoon had always chased adventure, which was entirely why she took up ski racing. Shadow would admit she was a handful in the beginning, far more enthused than refined in her technique, but she grew over the years and notched her own victories. She was about a year and a half younger than Shadow but chose to retire early, for the sea was always her first love.

He looked at Sonic next to him. The young man’s full attention was on Marine and her tales; she was probably the first Southern Islander Sonic had ever personally met. He was fascinated by her and buoyed by her gregariousness, leaning back against the couch with hands folded and legs loosely crossed, smiling every so often.

Shadow returned his gaze to the monitor as Marine finished her last story.

“Enough about me, how’re _you_ goin’?” She squinted her eyes in friendly query. “And I don’t recognize everyone!”

“That’s because we have ourselves a new recruit.” With a broad smile, Mighty turned back toward the blue hedgehog. “Marine, this is Sonic.”

Sitting up straighter, Sonic waved and smiled at Marine. “Hi.”

“Hello, Sonic!” Marine waved back. “Ready to add to the team’s trophy case?”

“I’ll do my best,” chuckled Sonic.

“That’s what I like to hear,” grinned Marine. “‘Best’ is what we’re about!”

That prompted laughter and a “You said it!” from Knuckles. Right at the outset, Mighty and Ray’s big-picture strategy prioritized training a small but effective ski team – more individual attention bred more decisive victories and, most importantly, stronger team bonds. Neither Rouge nor Shadow grasped the full benefits at the time he joined, but Shadow agreed this team was founded on the right stuff, so much that former members like Marine didn’t stray far from it. Old stories were bandied about, and Sonic's ears were perked for every single one. Along the way he relaxed enough to doff his house slippers and fold his legs under himself, letting one knee rest against Shadow’s outer thigh. Shadow didn’t mind at all, the feeling adding to the chat's pleasantness.

So pleasant that it seemed to end too soon. “Right, then,” chirped Marine, “wind’s picking up a bit here. I should finish the last of the cleaning on board and clear some errands. But we’ve _got_ to do this again some time!”

“Definitely! Safe travels till then,” said Mighty, and everyone waved goodbye.

There was no need to leave the room since the gift bags sat on a shelf nearby. Rouge laid them at Shadow’s feet, hers and Knuckles’ included. While she went to fetch the cake and candles, Mighty and Ray assured Shadow, “You’re still a kid, believe us.”

“At least you _could_ be one, the shape you’re in,” added Sonic, his tone somewhat shy.

“I suppose I’m still holding up,” said Shadow with a dry smile. _A human’s thirty is a Mobian’s fifty_ was a common phrase, and usually accurate, but Shadow felt the passage of time in his bones anyway. There were reasons most ski racers retired _before_ fifty, after all.

He tried to put that to rest as lights dimmed, and Rouge re-emerged with a candle-lit cake. Thankfully not all thirty-plus-one candles. _Would hate to see Rouge’s house burn down_ , his mind quipped, but he let himself enjoy the sight of a chocolate-powdered cake and the tune of well-wishers singing to him – even more so when Sonic slid into a low-key harmony that blended well with the others.

Shadow turned to him as he identified his voice, and smiled. He had a nice sound. Beautiful, actually.

But, as he nibbled the cake slice served to him and watched everyone else enjoy theirs amidst companionable gab, it dawned on him when he looked Sonic's way: Sonic seemed… _quiet_. Not that he was an incessant chatterbox on normal days, his family instilled good manners and he was more laidback than that anyway, but his usual spark had subdued since dinner. He spoke relatively little. Shadow wondered if he had something on his mind.

Was it about gifts? During gift-opening time Shadow counted seven gift bags from eight people. He knew Sonic didn’t bring one. But that didn’t matter to him. Even as he opened each bag and sincerely thanked each giver – chrome motorcycle exhaust pipes from Espio, spherical-lensed ski goggles from Mighty, a kitchen knife block set from Rouge, his friends knew him so well – he made a mental note to thank Sonic just for being there, and being himself.

He set his mind on doing just that once he’d opened all his gifts and Knuckles followed Rouge into the kitchen to help with dishwashing. But it was Sonic who tapped his shoulder first. “Shadow, do you have a minute?”

He was being tentative. Shadow frowned because he couldn’t pinpoint the reason, but he nodded. “Sure.”

They rose to their feet together, and Sonic led them to the front door. A thought from the moment Sonic first entered the house and removed his coat flitted by again: He looked quite handsome tonight. His outfit was simple – an off-white long-sleeved button-up shirt, brick red skinny jeans, black ankle boots that now sat on a shoe rack by the front door – but fit him perfectly in the right places, even around the royal blue quills on his back. A navy blue scarf, which the younger hedgehog had stuffed into one of his coat pockets, tied the look together. Shadow thought he should’ve dressed this way for a night on the town, not a home potluck.

Of course, it was far better that he came here…

Shadow’s brow creased as he mentally waved the thought off.

Arriving at the coat hanger, Sonic reached inside his coat and pulled a flat, black rectangular box from an inner pocket. It was adorned with a silky white ribbon tied into a simple bow. Holding it close to his chest for a moment, he extended it forward to Shadow with a nervous smile. “This is for you,” he murmured.

He could sneak when he wanted to! Shadow looked at him in incredulity. “Sonic, you didn’t have to.”

But Sonic continued, “I wanted to give this to you privately. It comes with an explanation.”

He couldn’t tell him to _un_ gift it now, then. “Well…thanks,” said Shadow with a mildly arched brow as he received the box. “May I open it?”

“Yeah,” nodded Sonic, clasping his hands in front of him.

With care Shadow undid the bow and lifted the lid. His eyes went wide.

Cool Edge snow gloves. Beautiful, sleek, hedgehog-sized white ones, with gold buckles at the wrist straps and the tiny black logo embroidered on the back of each hand. He touched the hem of the wrist and looked inside, finding breathable crimson lining. He turned both gloves over – they were connected by a sliver of plastic, proof they’d never been used – admiring them from all angles.

Though the company had closed its doors, Cool Edge gloves were ahead of their time in design and textiles. He hadn’t seen a pair in years apart from the ones he wore the first race he won. Those were a gift from Rouge, and were kept in a safe place to this day.

Rarely could Shadow call himself “amazed.” Right now, he was amazed.

He turned seemingly calm eyes to Sonic. “These are…they don’t _make_ these anymore. Where did you find them?”

The teen smiled while also wringing his hands, nerves still coursing through him. “At my favorite sport shop when I was a freshman. Worked some odd jobs helping neighbors at the time, saved up rings…Cool Edge had just been bought out, the shop stocked a few pairs somewhere in the back, and I knew I had to buy these. But I never wore them anywhere. They just looked too nice…I wanted to keep it that way.”

He paused to fill his lungs with a steadying breath. Shadow watched his pale hand drift up to fiddle with a sleeve. The intensity of Sonic’s nerves was new to the elder hedgehog, stronger than even the day they first met, and Shadow felt his heart go out to him through his own astonishment. He looked so…vulnerable.

But he found it in himself to continue nostalgically, “I was maybe ten when I read about your very first Mobius Cup win in one of my dad’s old magazines. There was a full-spread photo of you wearing Cool Edges, looking up and pointing at the sky in honor of your late grandfather and sister. By then I'd lost two grandparents. I know that's not the same, but your story really stayed with me.”

His gaze lowered for an instant, as if he needed to collect himself, before his eyes met Shadow’s once more. “And now, knowing more of where you’ve been, I just want to say…" He took a second to cough into a loose fist, and his voice was very soft when he spoke again. "...I mean...you changed my life. If you’d gone any other way, you might not be skiing, and I wouldn’t be here.” He flashed a shy smile at his hero. “I found the gloves in my room again last month. I thought you should have them.”

All Shadow could do was gape at Sonic for a few moments. Half in awe, half in disbelief. Then he swallowed. “You know I only did that once, right?” said the elder hedgehog, voice lower than usual and as steady as he could make it. “Mention Gerald and Maria in an interview?”

When Sonic smiled this time, it was with reverence. “I never forgot,” he breathed.

He looked down at the gloves again, as if they were some intricate artifact that ought to be handled with care. It was true that, in large part, the memory of Gerald and Maria kept him dedicated to his career, but in his mind there was no need to publicly bring them up again. They were in his heart, and his record spoke for itself.

For his family to be such a takeaway about him now…well, sure, any fan could have done this. He’d received cards and gifts in the mail, all of which he appreciated. But this particular gift, and the way Sonic chose to present it, impressed upon Shadow how deeply the youth cherished _him_ rather than his tougher-than-nails image.

That took him aback. He was also surprised by the fullness of his heart, by how uninhibited his smile was. He felt uncovered at his roots, seen – valued! – for just who he was. And the fact that _Sonic_ did this…why, Sonic wasn’t just any fan. He was his teammate, a delightful boy becoming a winsome man, one he was growing to trust and still hoped to get to know.

His heartbeat strong and his head swimming, he looked at Sonic, who waited for a response, jewel-like eyes peering at him uncertainly.

 _Now_ who was vulnerable?

“These are beautiful. Really too nice to wear,” he murmured so as to keep his voice from breaking. “I don’t blame you for not using them…but I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”

Perhaps Sonic couldn’t find his own voice anymore, for his sole response was a glad smile accompanied by a soft, contented gaze. It stirred something more, something different, within Shadow. Closing the distance between them and reaching forward, Shadow gathered Sonic in a hug that was as intimate as it was friendly, one arm firm around his lean waist. “Thank you for such a meaningful gift,” he whispered. “I love it.”

His teammate, sighing long as if relieved, hugged him back tight. “I’m happy you do,” he replied in deep earnest, and Shadow could swear he felt him purr.

They stood there in each other’s snug embrace for a few more moments, long enough to confirm Sonic _was_ purring. Good Chaos. So soothing. Shadow savored this more than he could articulate.

“Sonic?” called Mighty from the kitchen. “We’re heading home now.”

The hedgehogs loosened their holds. “Okay,” Sonic called back.

They separated, Shadow giving the younger’s upper arm a last squeeze, right before Mighty and Ray sauntered into the living room, Espio and his housemates not far behind. The guests all put their shoes and boots back on. Alongside Rouge and Knuckles, Shadow bade them good night, but his gaze lingered on Sonic as he held his gift box close to himself. Sonic’s eyes were bright, his smile tender, and Shadow sighed when the door shut behind him, wishing he could follow him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays, and thank you for reading this chapter!


	4. Going Back, Moving On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! I tweaked Chapter 3 a bit, starting about midway through the group chat (after Marine says “That’s what I like to hear”). Not much changes circumstantially so you don’t have to re-read it, but I thought it needed some work, so just FYI. :)

The Mobius Cup schedule included a two-week solstice break from competition. Everyone involved were free to do as they wished. Espio flew overseas to visit relatives, Sonic partook of his annual extended family reunion, Rouge and Knuckles enjoyed a simple and relaxing staycation.

Shadow drove to the flower shop downtown.

He already grew pink Mobian hardy roses in his own backyard, able to withstand winter cold. He liked the idea of flowers that were both beautiful and strong. Three rose bushes stood along the section of his backyard fence that saw the most sunlight. But they produced only buds in the winter, which he would need to supplement with choice blooms from the flower shop.

Flowers were a recent free-time hobby for Shadow. He’d taken up a bit of gardening within the past two and a half years or so, on a whim of curiosity, because his backyard was very empty. The more he dug in (he’d never confess it, but the pun amused him), the more solace he found in its methodology. Watching something organic grow from the work of his own hands satisfied him in ways he didn’t foresee.

The day of the flower shop trip began early. Before sunrise, he cut and de-thorned twelve rosebuds, carefully wrapped them in brown paper, and tied them together with a pale blue ribbon. He had a light breakfast with coffee, not needing a heavy meal when he planned to meet Rouge for brunch later on.

Once that was done, he took the rosebuds into town, leaving them in the car. He was the first one there on this day, as was his objective.

“Good morning, Shadow! Happy solstice to you!” greeted the shopkeeper, an elderly ewe in a floor-length dress and a green apron.

“Good morning, Marigold. Happy solstice,” Shadow replied with a genuine smile.

He bore an intimidating aura in the skiing world, and largely kept to himself and his team in the real world. In rare instances like this, he got to know ordinary citizens who were allowed, once he grew to trust them, to see that he wasn’t just a scary face.

He only came to Marigold’s once a year. She always treated him well, with a grandmother’s warmth, and she really knew flowers, showing off her best and freshest. He enjoyed the fragrance of her shop while they spent a brief but pleasant time catching up on their lives. Understanding why he was there so early and knowing the exact flowers he wanted, she made use of their remaining time picking white lilies, lilac sprigs, and stems of golden stock filler for two bouquets, keeping up friendly chatter as she did so.

The bouquets turned out as perfect as he’d come to expect from her. He told her as much in sincere appreciation, and paid her with a sizeable tip. They wished each other a happy new year, and he departed.

In light snowfall he took a winding road forty minutes out of town, listening to quiet instrumental music, allowing distant memories to fill his mind. Some were good, better with age really. Others never got better, but he had to accept them. Both good and not-good memories grew more vivid as he got closer to his destination and he recognized landmarks, or the absence thereof, from what seemed an actual lifetime ago.

At last, a section of graceful, classic-styled white wall appeared along his road. He saw the tall arched entrance and turned in, rolling past a flourishing garden setting to the attendant at the parking gate.

“Gerald and Maria Robotnik,” he stated.

The attendant handed him a map that he accepted cordially, even though he could find his way there in the dark without a flashlight if given a chance. Thanking the attendant, Shadow moved forward and upward on a path that led through broad swaths of verdant, memorial-dotted lawns.

He reached the base of the uppermost hill and parked. Bouquets in hand – he’d stuck his rosebuds in one bouquet and retied the blue ribbon around it – he walked, snow-covered grass crunching softly beneath his boots. The hilltop was crowned with a stately tree, a Mobian version of what Gerald once described as a weeping willow tree from Earth. In the willow’s ample shade rested two tombstones.

Twenty-two years ago today, Maria Robotnik died at the age of twelve.

Gerald Robotnik died three weeks later from a stroke, the toll of his grief and stress. But it was always the anniversary of Maria’s final breath that marked Shadow’s visits.

Days before had been their last winter solstice, and their last celebration of Shadow’s birthday, together in the flesh. Maria hung on with all her might to share those days with her grandfather and little brother, to enjoy their presence and smiles, even with tubes fed into her thin body and morphine dulling her senses. She remained so positive that she told Shadow over and over how much his purring helped – at the time, he was small enough to cuddle on the hospital bed with her. And in her last days she mustered strength to open presents from both Gerald and Shadow, smiling brilliantly at Shadow’s gift because it was handmade, a small color drawing of a sunflower. He had wanted so badly for her to see the sun once more.

It was buried with her, the drawing, folded under her hands before she was lowered in her casket the following week.

Shadow breathed in deep. Maria would love this air, this view. She could find beauty in perhaps much darker places than a cemetery. He wondered if she’d chide him in good spirits for feeling sad over her. _Isn’t there more to look forward to?_ she might’ve asked.

So he tried to remember how blessed he was to have known them at all. Maria herself was an orphan whom her scientist grandfather brought to Mobius with him. Together they found the hedgehog as an abandoned infant. By Gerald’s account Maria chose the name “Shadow” for him, having learned, even at her age, that one could not recognize light without shadows.

Gerald, a brilliant and hardworking man, raised them alone and schooled them both at home, academically and recreationally. Shadow’s most indelible memories of him involved learning chemistry through cooking, and physics through target practice and skiing. He and Maria could perform all three activities, though Shadow excelled at skiing and shooting, and Maria loved cooking from an early age. Shadow smiled, still able to recall the aroma of their kitchen whenever Maria baked cupcakes.

The more years went by, the more his thoughts dwelt on Maria rather than on Gerald. No disrespect intended toward his grandfather at all – it was just that Gerald lived into old age, discovered his talents and intellect, utilized them well. Maria was denied even her teen years. Who would she have become? How swift a skier, how formidable a sharpshooter, how renowned a chef?

For this reason, Shadow included rosebuds in her bouquet only. They symbolized her strength, her sweetness, and her untapped potential – one for each year of her life.

Clutching the bouquets, the hedgehog swallowed, his grip on composure loosening even decades after the fact. But he held on, and began to speak.

“Hello, Gerald. Hello, Maria,” he greeted softly. “Belated happy solstice.”

Even now he had to beat back internal voices that told him he had no right to be there. He wished he’d ignored those voices when he was younger and on the run: _How dare you return, having dirtied your skills with weapons you had no business handling?_ He never killed a soul, but he did incapacitate in pointedly painful ways per his gang training. If the Black Arms knew anything, it was how to put the hurt on their enemies, and they roped him right into it.

Guilt did not assuage for years until he purchased his own proper rifle, Gerald’s instructional tool of choice for Shadow and Maria. Only when he rediscovered the science and art of sportsmanlike shooting was his conscience soothed. His grandfather taught him those things. His sister practiced alongside him. Not only did he have a right to visit, he should have _insisted_ on it.

He sighed. He had spent previous years flagellating himself over their graves. Those tears were shed and gone.

_What’s done is done._

“It’s been quite a year,” he began, “catching up” with Gerald and Maria as he always did. “Rouge is doing well; Sky High keeps thriving, and so does her relationship with Knuckles. Marine has retired to a life at sea. Espio’s going strong still.”

He stooped down to place the bouquets on their respective graves as he spoke. Procuring a microfiber cloth from his coat pocket, he set about dusting off the tombstones.

“I won most of the races I finished last season,” he continued, “but it didn’t end as I’d have liked. My knee hasn’t been this sore in…to be honest, I don’t remember it ever getting this sore. This season I’m doing therapy and I’ve cut back on races. It leaves me restless at times, I feel as if there’s work I’m not getting done.”

He packed a bit of snow into the cloth and waited for it to melt. He went on, “Maybe I’m _too_ used to success – it’s hard to handle anything else.” He couldn’t help the half-smile that broke upon his face. “I have you both to thank. You taught me to do my very best in all things.”

In years past he’d asked them if they would have approved of him ski racing. Gerald might have had reservations, as a scientist who engaged intellectually more than athletically. It was common for parents and guardians to teach their children how to ski almost as soon as they could walk – Maria and Shadow were no exception – but not typical to allow them to pursue skiing careers.

Maria, on the other hand…whether she competed herself or not, she would have lived vicariously through her little brother. She would throw her full support behind Shadow, just as Sonic’s family did for him.

At the thought of Sonic, Shadow’s heart warmed in a way that further guarded him from the solstice chill.

“Our team gained a new member,” he smiled. “Since Marine’s retired, he’s much-needed fresh blood.”

The snow on the cloth having melted, he started to wipe Maria’s tombstone from the top, clearing it of dust and stains. “He was a kid who knew Rouge through Sky High,” he explained, his voice turning fond. “Was a regular on the black diamond course. He showed up on the camera feed one day. If I weren’t there in Rouge’s office at that time, I may never have known. And if the team weren’t scouting, I would’ve had no reason to meet him.” He sighed. “I’m glad there was a reason.”

He fell into a content reminiscence as he worked. Never did Shadow expect such a silver lining from his knee injury. Not allowed to exercise that week and bored at home, he had gone to Sky High to pass time by helping Rouge in her office. He took care of paperwork while Rouge made her rounds of the resort. He also kept an eye on the security camera feeds beamed to Rouge’s desk monitor, for curiosity’s sake more than anything.

The camera pointed at the black diamond course interested Shadow the most. It was the least-traversed of all the courses, but those who went, usually alone, showed above-average skill for recreational skiers.

And then there was him.

Shadow would have missed him if he’d blinked that second. He appeared as a grainy blur, and then he was gone. It was an overhead shot, the camera suspended from a cable, so Shadow saw both the swiftness and the dexterity in his downhill line. Yet the black hedgehog wouldn’t have believed it were the proof not in the trail he left.

A second viewing – yes, he’d set down his paperwork and waited to see if the skier would make another run – confirmed it was real. Rouge confirmed it further when he asked her later, adding that he was a hedgehog too. And at a team potluck meeting that weekend, Mighty and Ray asked everyone to be on the lookout for up and coming, trainable ski talent.

The pieces fell together so naturally. Rouge spoke to the kid next time he came and brought him to her office, where he met none other than Shadow, who asked the shell-shocked high schooler if he would be interested in a tryout.

He was glad the boy agreed, even with some trepidation, because he liked him instantly (keeping that fact to himself). For Shadow, that was saying something.

He gave the tombstone one last careful polish, and sat on a dark tree root that jutted up from the ground, his brow creased in thought…but not from being upset in any way. Quite the opposite.

He was _happy_.

“He’s one of the most…joyful people I’ve ever met,” he murmured, his smile reappearing. “I think you’d like him, Maria. He’s fun to be with, makes friends with pretty much everyone he meets.” He paused at a touching realization. “In a way, he’s also thought of you and Gerald over the years. It’s amazing.”

His new gloves remained as yet in their box, but Shadow glanced at the box every day. They were more than an ordinary birthday present. Sonic himself was more than a rookie and a teammate.

Maybe, roved a thought in the back of his mind, more than even a friend.

It flitted by, not for the first time. He was discomfited. But its persistence prompted a silent question: did it carry substance?

Shadow tilted his head as he slowly leaned forward with elbows on knees.

He wasn’t used to _missing_ people besides Maria and Gerald. Rouge, ever his big-sister figure, was always there. Espio was like a brother, a solid one. Mighty was dependable in a fatherly way.

Sonic…wasn’t any of these things. He _transcended_ these things, rather, because somehow he got closer to Shadow’s heart than any of them did, Shadow unaware of himself adapting to it.

He’d be lying if he denied wondering what the blue hedgehog was up to when they weren’t at training, looking forward to more car conversations and delaying their inevitable end, grinning at each of his texts while at the same time wishing he were there to speak his thoughts in person.

Like Maria, he saw the best in people and drew it out with joy. His fur was even Maria’s favorite color, blue. But where she preferred a pale, gentle blue, Sonic’s fur was deep and luxurious, like a rich comforter Shadow wanted to wrap himself in-

He blinked.

Self-consciousness took hold as he realized his thoughts of late returned to Sonic – and _closeness_ with Sonic – on a daily basis. It was hard to avoid thinking about the young man who was equal parts sassy and charismatic and thoughtful, an uplifting spirit with an easy laugh that belay his tenacity as an athlete.

He was also…beautiful. As his strength and maturity grew, so did his beauty.

A hand drifted up to cover his mouth, virtually of its own accord, as Shadow felt the blush on his cheeks. He had struggled to permit himself to think thusly, perhaps because Sonic hadn’t reached adult age when they met. But, if he were honest, he found him beautiful from the very start. Gorgeous blue fur, bold quills that flowed free, bright green eyes, wiry frame – nature’s work of art, with a personality that magnified his beauty.

And he had not stopped thinking back on the solstice party, the significant thoughts Sonic shared, his face upon Shadow’s approval of his gift, how it felt to hold him afterwards – nestled into that _wonderful_ purr, as pleasing to his heart as Sonic’s singing voice – and how reluctant he was to let go. The very memory set his stomach mildly a-flutter. If only there was a way to travel back in time to relive that moment, because he felt Sonic’s absence more acutely every day he didn’t see him…

What was it Rouge said? _Time stops when you’re in love._

Love?

Sonic was worthy of love. _Most_ worthy. But…from _Shadow_? The orphan, the runaway, the former thug-in-training? What could he offer that Sonic didn’t already have?

Self-doubt was rare for him. Shadow was thick-skinned and capable wherever it mattered because life had toughened him, possibly the only good outcome of events he would never wish to relive. He was an almost proudly self-sufficient hedgehog.

Yet, simply by being him, Sonic gave Shadow more than he ever thought he’d want. Perhaps more than he’d ever convinced himself he wanted. And he actually desired to give back in at _least_ equal measure. But he, in unfamiliar territory, was at a loss as to how.

Contrarily he also found a new kind of selfishness…such that he did in fact wish to stop time whenever he was with Sonic, if it meant staying in his presence longer. Holding him longer.

Much, much longer.

Oh, Chaos.

His heart had never beat so loud.

Hugging himself, he closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. “His name is Sonic,” he said without much feeling, even as stunned as he was to his core. “I wish you were here to tell me what you think, Maria.”

Yet he found in his heart an unanticipated clarity, as if a burst of wind had pushed caked debris off his eyes, and knew this was the surest he’d felt about anything apart from skiing in a very long time. Even as frightening as it was.

“Because…I might love him.”

 

It took five hammer taps to drive the nail in.

Shadow laid down the hammer and, in its place, picked up his new gloves, giving the suede a light squeeze.

He pondered as he stood there, his gaze travelling along the stitching on the backs of the glove hands. During brunch he didn’t utter a word to Rouge about his thoughts at the cemetery. At this point in their friendship she respected his privacy enough to not ask questions beyond _Are you all right?_ , and he appreciated that. Their meal was spent chatting about the team’s plans for the rest of solstice break.

A bigger issue hung over his head the entire day: How on Mobius was he going to tell Sonic? _Should_ he tell Sonic?

After the initial shock and when he had opportunity, he realized upon introspection that it made thorough sense. He didn’t really ever think of Sonic as an ordinary friend or teammate. There was always something else to it, some mysterious sense of _belonging_ when it came to the younger hedgehog…they belonged with each other. Fit together. Something about Sonic _called_ to him.

At the same time, it was incredibly strange. Years ago he’d even figured himself a lifelong bachelor, as romance just wasn’t in his interests. Watching Rouge and Knuckles take their first steps into a relationship seemed to confirm it; all he felt during that season was annoyance at Knuckles for stealing Rouge’s free time. He did learn to adjust (and make nice with Knuckles) before long.

Without trying, Sonic stirred his curiosity. Shadow smiled at memories of the exuberant and affectionate teen, speed and smiles and so much more.

But they also reminded him of their age difference. Gaps of ten to fifteen years, while not the norm, were also not uncommon or strange among Mobians. For the most part Shadow didn’t expect to wrestle with societal taboos by dating Sonic, now a legal adult. However, the elder hedgehog also wondered whether Sonic would actually date his role model from a very recent childhood…

He lifted his eyes to the framed photograph above where he’d hammered the nail in. It eased his mind somewhat. After all, he too was a child not so very long ago.

Here was the only family portrait hanging anywhere in the house: in the center sat a four-year-old black hedgehog boy, his feet dangling off the cushioned edge of an ornate chair, next to which Maria smiled and behind which Gerald stood. This was Shadow’s favorite shot of the handful he owned because it captured both a heartwarming and rascally moment – his family posed genially whilst he himself looked bored. Admittedly he wanted to smack his foolish toddler self the older he grew, since he would only get to enjoy his family’s blissful company for another half decade.

It wasn’t normally displayed within view. He kept this section of wall behind a curtain to protect the photo from sun and light damage, only moving the curtain aside when he felt the pull of good, old memories.

The gloves he received only two weeks ago represented the piece of Sonic that he gave to Shadow, in response to the piece of his life Shadow shared with Sonic in the car. The white had not yellowed over the years, such was their quality, but the elder hedgehog didn’t want to take chances. So he could think of no better spot for them than here.

He hung the gloves by their loops on the newly hammered nail and stepped back to assess.

Perfect. Centered flawlessly beneath his family portrait.

Like they were meant to be there all along.


	5. Downhill

A new year, and a light, fresh coat of overnight snow, made for excellent ski practice.

Crisp mountain air cycled through Shadow’s lungs as he weaved his way down a course of slalom gates, which bent at their joints as his shin guards smacked into them. He was ahead of his teammates on either side of him, the hill being wide enough to accommodate them all at once, and he heard slushing of snow everywhere.

None of them were slalom specialists, but practicing it improved their turn reflexes. It was also good to exercise out in the open air. Sky High closed its various hills for scheduled maintenance days throughout the ski season. Taking advantage of that, the team trained in the snow during the early parts of these days. They liked this particular hill because it required its own separate lift, ensuring privacy while the public could enjoy the rest of the resort, and its slope grade was just enough to challenge them.

Moreover…it was therapeutic, the repetition. Tilt left around pole, dig in with skis, tilt right around next pole, dig in with skis, rinse and repeat. He needed it. He needed to clear his head.

It wasn’t Sonic’s _fault_ he loved him, but for Shadow, focus got…complicated.

They reached the bottom of the course, and the younger hedgehog, clad in black leggings and a bright yellow ski jacket (looking adorably spirited, Shadow thought), let out a satisfied puff of air. This was their second run of the day. He wasn’t the fastest down the hill this time, but the warm-up was clearly gainful for him as well.

“Can you _feel_ the sunshine?” he asked playfully, raising his ski poles as he stretched his arms outward. Shadow grinned back, sure that Sonic would twirl through the snow if he weren’t strapped into his skis.

“It _is_ nice to get this much sun,” Espio acknowledged as he approached them.

“Right? Probably won’t last all month, but I love it today,” sighed Sonic.

“Heavier snowfall’s delayed for a bit,” said Shadow.

“Which works with our schedule,” added Espio. “But we should start heading back before Knuckles gets antsy.”

They glided toward the ski lift, Shadow following the other two, Sonic glancing back at him a couple of times.

He was concerned, the elder hedgehog knew, but respected his privacy. Shadow tried not let guilt pile in his heart, since he couldn’t _help_ his attraction to Sonic. Still, guilt flowed on. Sonic was a teenager he willingly took under his wing, to teach and to guide him…not to fall in love with him. He never meant for that to happen.

To top it off, he was now less sure about opening his mouth, which made things awkward with Sonic and got Shadow annoyed with himself. Not how he wanted to kindle a romance, if he even could.

He tried to relax while Sonic and Espio chatted for most of the ride up the lift. At least he could feel the crisp wind on his face, listen to his teammates, watch the young man smile, and let himself grow to love him all the more for that. Oftentimes he saw Sonic’s smile in his thoughts and even his dreams, but beholding it in person (against the backdrop of a blue sky and evergreen trees and pristine snow, no less) was seeing dreams come to life, and nothing was better.

Things went thus on the slope into early afternoon, when they wrapped up and returned to their training room workouts. Shadow made more effort to contribute to the banter. The sun and fresh air did him good, it seemed, and he was relieved to be less of a drag on the team, especially Sonic.

He accompanied Shadow to the parking lot at the end of the day, trailing behind him by a half-step. Sonic wasn’t timid, but today he carried himself with an unusual reserve. Shadow knew he himself was responsible for that.

“Hey…” the blue hedgehog began, outwardly casual while caution floated beneath the surface, “…are you all right? You seem quiet today.”

Looking into his earnest face, Shadow worked a crooked smile onto his own features. “I’m okay, thanks for asking. Just things on my mind.”

“Oh,” was Sonic’s downbeat reply, his gaze tingeing with sympathy. “Not terrible things, I hope.”

_“Terrible” isn’t the word_ , Shadow wanted to tell him out loud. “No,” he assured instead. After another moment, he chose to explain a little further. “I visit Maria and Gerald’s graves every year after winter solstice, it’s always a time to process things.”

A pleasant smile touched Sonic’s mouth. “That sounds…nice, actually. Must be peaceful.”

The black hedgehog nodded with his own smile as they reached Sonic’s car, more at ease now. “It is. Or has been lately. Gets nicer as time goes by.” He paused, wondering if his next words would sound strange, before determining it didn’t matter. “It’s where I can really talk to them.”

“Because that’s where they rest,” said Sonic in understanding.

“And it’s good to be there, even when it’s coldest,” agreed Shadow.

The younger hedgehog tilted his head. “Why do you go during winter solstice?”

Until now, Rouge was the only person who knew. But his heart’s buried treasures were things he was increasingly willing to share with Sonic, layer by layer. So he answered in a subdued tone, “Because my birthday is two days after solstice, and Maria died two days after my birthday. I like to think she wanted to stay for both.”

Condolence bloomed on Sonic’s face. “Oh, Shadow,” he murmured.

As validating as he found the expression, Shadow shrugged, not wanting Sonic to feel bad for him. “That’s why visits have helped me. There are sad memories, but even more good ones. Talking them out at the end of each year has been good.” He flashed a shy half-smile. “I told them you thought of them too, when you gave me the gloves.”

He enjoyed the surprise that burst into Sonic’s eyes, which melted into a sort of bashful look. “Wow,” said the teen, his smile fond, “didn’t think you’d put in a good word for me.”

Shadow grinned. “What you did doesn’t happen every day. Of course I’d say something.”

“I appreciate that,” said Sonic, tone imbued with humility, before he turned his eyes to the ground. “Maybe I should visit my grandparents one of these days.”

“Definitely,” said Shadow, “though it’d be nice if my family were keeping yours company.”

He might have said that, he reflected in private as they carried on talking, because he himself felt the comfort of Sonic’s company, even with the setting sun and the cooling air. Low temperatures meant nothing in their part of Mobius, as long as they didn’t drop below freezing. So he turned down Sonic’s offer to drive him back to his house. Walking to and from training was his habit.

Besides, the colossal hug they shared at the end, long and cheek-to-cheek, sustained him quite well for the rest of the night, to say nothing of his walk (he might have floated at least partway) home.

 

He stood in the start house of the Ice Cap venue, awaiting the signal.

Stronger-than-expected puffs of wind beat against the inflated structure atop the course. Venue staff members milled about, and Knuckles stood next to him. “Good thing the race is almost over,” the echidna commented. “Wind can kick up all it wants afterwards.”

“‘Afterwards.’ Let’s hope it got that memo.” Forearms crossed over torso, Shadow had defaulted to stoic endurance. At this point he _almost_ didn’t care if he placed dead last. Sonic and Espio had both finished their training runs more than an hour ago, and he had drawn the third-to-last slot. Over thirty minutes had passed since his start was delayed, waiting for the gusts to calm. There was nothing more he could do beyond stretching and walking in place.

But even his patience was just about to fray. This was the longest weather delay he’d dealt with in some time. He had no problems skiing or not skiing, but this state of limbo was a massive annoyance. _Either the wind or the officials need to make up their mind._

The wind seemed to heed him. Within that minute it began to die down, though it still rustled the start house. Shadow peeked outside the starting gate, relieved that visibility was reasonable despite the remnant of wind and a gray sky.

When relative calm persisted for fifteen minutes after that, one of the venue staffers, a spotted seal, approached him. “You’re free to go,” she said, gesturing toward the gate.

He nodded his thanks, and Knuckles fist bumped him. “You _still_ got this,” stated the coach, violet eyes glinting with confidence.

“See you down below,” Shadow nodded humorlessly. He moved toward the start gate, rolling his shoulders. The wind was very present despite ebbing, but the cold air against his face proved a respite after the stifling wait. It wasn’t cause for concern. He’d skied through worse.

Goggles down and poles at the ready, he waited for the buzzers. One. Two. Three. Four.

He launched, more than prepared.

The horizon line appeared blurred, as if sky and snow melded into one neutral gradient, broken only by dark mountaintops. At least the painted lines kept him grounded. He had to trust them to help him navigate the contours of the course. There would be no personal best time today; he must content himself with simply finishing and doing better tomorrow.

Fortunately the Ice Cap course was ingrained into his memory. Sliding back and forth from flag to flag, he felt more than saw the terrain. The snow was in fantastic condition, like he was the first to touch it…which he was, in a way, the wind having kindly stirred it for him.

But it was slowing his momentum just a bit. When he shot out over a decline, the wind pushing against him shortened the distance by which he hovered forward, causing him to land back on his skis sooner than usual. Just as well he believed in his own fortitude, because he’d have to expend more energy to make up for it. As long as his speed was enough to carry him through the loops…

Ice Cap was distinct in that its corkscrew was sandwiched between two loop-the-loops. The hedgehog dashed through the first loop, landed on the straightaway, then leaned into a curve right before the corkscrew. The relatively short stretch between this curve and the corkscrew forced him to orient himself early, lowering his center of gravity for a clean and safe run. Many skiers loathed Ice Cap for this reason, but it never cowed Shadow, who duly added it to his skillset. He all but autopiloted through it.

Following that and the second loop-the-loop was a drop, he just needed to focus on the path-

-with his trajectory knocked askew by just a hair.

Right as he charged out of the loop, a pocket of wind swelled against him on one side. He kept his eyes on the course and landed, though not on the usual section of the path. Disquiet arose within him when his left ski struck a nigh-invisible bump – growing into alarm as the ski popped off his foot.

_No no no no NO._

And he had only one way to stop.

In a half-second pain seized his body as he toppled and skidded into hard snow, momentum dragging him along and hurling him without compunction into side netting.

Swift, heavy footsteps reached his ears as he flopped onto his back, his breath punched out of him. His ribs scrunched him like a vise, his face burned, his whole body was a prison of agony, most acutely felt in his left knee and right shoulder. Chaos. It had to be _that_ knee, the one he’d been rehabbing. He shut his eyes and gritted his teeth, not wanting to believe what just happened except his knee refused to quit stabbing at him.

Hands were lain on his shoulders – he grimaced at the one on his right – and two gloved fingers were held in front of his face. “Shadow! Are you all right? How many fingers am I showing you?”

Ah, yes. His first-ever double vision check. “Two,” he ground out.

“Where is the worst pain?”

Not prettily he indicated the parts that hurt most, which the medical official palpated. “Can you stand?” he asked.

It wasn’t going to happen, he knew deep down, and confirmed it when he put weight on his knee and the pain exploded. Was there a fracture? There couldn’t be, just couldn’t…

Instructed to lie still and wait for emergency transport, all he could do was wait, endure, and keep misery at bay, as his head pounded and his goals disintegrated.

 

Quiet reigned but for monotone beeps issuing from his left.

He lay reclined on somewhere soft. Flexing a hand, he felt cloth against his palm and a thin tube bound to his inner wrist.

When he opened his eyes and blinked, he saw a plain, beige-toned room, and his blanket-covered legs stretched out on a bed, the left bundled thicker than the right. He moved his palm to his torso, which was loosely clothed, and touched his bandaged right shoulder, the arm cradled in a sling. The pain was greatly diminished overall, to the skier’s relief.

Then he turned his head left, and his breath caught.

His blue-quilled, blue-furred teammate sat slouched in a chair next to the bed, cheek squashed against a folded jacket perched on his own shoulder. His posture wasn’t what Shadow would call comfortable, but moderate peace infused his expression anyway.

_Sonic…_

Memories returned. Shadow had been rushed by ambulance to the nearby hospital, where it was determined that he sustained a shoulder dislocation, a torn knee ligament, and internal organ bruising. Mighty made it there before he was wheeled into surgery, steady as ever and giving his best reassurances – the armadillo had seen myriad accidents unfold in his own skiing career.

The rest of the team had stayed in the waiting area. Through his discomfort Shadow asked about Sonic. Mighty admitted the rookie was “beside himself.”

No trace of that now, but the sable hedgehog could imagine. His brow knitted.

_Oh, Sonic._

He just looked at Sonic, unwilling to wake him. Dinnertime was over, going by the wall clock. Their day had begun early as usual. The young man was surely tired and possibly famished.

But he must have heard the noises in Shadow’s movements, because his eyes scrunched and blinked away sleepiness, his vision gradually focusing once his eyes opened. The moment he saw the patient awake, he raised his head.

“Shadow?” he whispered.

The injured hedgehog proffered a weak smile as Sonic lay a hand on the bed’s side rail. “Hey,” he greeted.

That smile of his dreams, now filled with relief, lit up his features; Shadow was half-convinced it alone could heal him on the spot. But it faded as Sonic tilted his head and regarded him with puzzlement. “Are…are your eyes okay?”

Shadow frowned. “They _feel_ okay.”

Sonic continued to stare at him. “I mean…do you wear contacts?”

Shadow’s eyes widened a fraction as realization hit him: He’d never mentioned his contacts. He had in fact removed and handed them to Mighty before surgery. Red was his true eye color, but his contacts were brown…

“Not right now,” he said, giving a small smile. “I only put them on when I go out.”

Now surprise colored Sonic’s features. “I didn’t know you had vision problems.”

“I don’t,” Shadow shook his head.

This time Sonic paused a bit, and when he spoke, his reply bordered on timid. “Then…why would you cover your eyes…?”

Shadow detected an unspoken statement in the question – a compliment, even, judging by Sonic’s mild blush. It was fairly easy to see, as the younger hedgehog’s muzzle was lighter than his own, and it warmed his heart. He _liked_ his eyes.

“For privacy,” Shadow answered, his smile sweet. “Street life and paparazzi run-ins have made me paranoid.”

Finally Sonic smiled again, with a sense of honor. His hero was showing another part of himself beyond the public’s access. He understood and appreciated it.

And, with a sunny grin and a playful shrug, didn’t resist getting cheeky about it. “Paps’re losing out,” he quipped.

“The more they lose, the better,” Shadow grinned back.

“Maybe I could be your bodyguard,” Sonic impishly suggested. “Starting right now. I’m even free all of tomorrow, since I’m not racing.”

Shadow blinked. “What?”

He couldn’t tell how his expression looked to Sonic, but it gave his teammate pause. “I…I dropped out,” he elaborated. “I’m not racing tomorrow.”

Not only did Shadow’s eyes widen, his voice grew very quiet when he spoke. “You _what_?”

It just wasn’t done. No member of their team ever quit a race if it wasn’t necessary. Mighty and Ray weren’t slave drivers, but the entire team held to an established ethic, one that Shadow kept with all tenacity. Sonic’s training run went just fine and he was healthy – he had no _reason_ to drop out.

The elder hedgehog was incredulous even while Sonic explained further. “E-Espio’s still on for tomorrow,” he stammered, shrinking back with ears flattened in uncharacteristic dread. “But…it’ll be hard for me to get focus back after today…”

So Shadow was the reason. He’d taken steps to ensure he’d be there for _him_. But in the moment, Shadow couldn’t find it in himself to be thrilled. “Sonic,” he said, quiet but definitely disapproving, “it’s not your call to make. We ski. That’s our job. It’s what we do, what you signed up for.”

Sonic’s brow knit in some distress, but he held his ground and leaned forward. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, not argumentative but rooted in firm resolve and a bit of desperation. “Mighty already cleared me and told the officials. Besides, if you have to miss the rest of your _season_ , then I can miss _one_ _race_.”

Sonic hadn’t stood up to his paragon before – of all the ways! – and Shadow’s stern-ish face concealed his surprise. Not since Rouge in his youth had he allowed anyone to be _his_ hero to quite this extent. Then again, Rouge was the only one who insisted on it. Until now.

It was his duty to put up a fight, the veteran thought. However, he didn’t truly want Sonic to leave his side. Not with those compassionate eyes, that supportive grip on his good arm.

Still, he had to make his stance clear. Shaking his head, weary but stubborn with his own resolve, he said evenly, “You can’t do this all the time. The team needs you. Sponsors keep tabs.” Not that freshman skiers dealt with sponsors, but he should know anyway.

At first Sonic said nothing, perhaps not wishing to escalate into an argument. He just heaved a sigh, nodded, stood up and leaned over Shadow, “hugging” him with a careful hand on the crook of his neck and his chin atop his head. “Just…get better, okay?” he murmured with a light squeeze of his hand.

How could Shadow resist anymore? He wanted to lean into Sonic too, and he closed his eyes, wishing he could hug him. Just his touch was so cozy, and much needed after surviving his worst career nightmare come true.

Or was the nightmare only beginning? His temples hurt again at the thought.

The doorknob jiggled and twisted. Mighty, his shell pushing the door open and his hands carrying a tray of food, smiled when he entered. “Hey, you’re up,” he said, his tone quiet.

Sonic moved aside to take the tray, nodding his thanks, freeing Mighty to lay a hand on Shadow’s uninjured shoulder. “How’re you feeling?” he asked.

The team leader’s expression told Shadow he already knew the answer wasn’t positive. The hedgehog was thankful Mighty spared him from putting his private turmoil into words – he trusted both Sonic and Mighty to hear him out, but talking about it, in Shadow’s view, was belaboring the point. So he offered a mere shrug. “Not much of anything,” he said, though his sense of defeat was clear.

Mighty’s response was a simple, understanding nod. “Yeah,” he said.

Even in defeat, Shadow had to breach the topic. “So Holoska…”

But the armadillo was already shaking his head. “Won’t happen for you,” he finished.

Shadow’s jaw tightened. He was perturbed not at Mighty, but at being denied his redemption in Holoska, the site of the final week of Mobius Cup races where his knee was twisted.

Mighty knew it. “We all want you to get better, Shadow. Just don’t worry about Holoska. Take the time off you’re _overdue_ for. I swear it’s not punishment. It’s your right.”

He meant well, but any comfort Mighty intended just wasn’t sinking in. What was the point of trying to put last season’s Holoska runs behind him, then? Doing whatever he could to manage his knee, undergoing weekly therapy, stretching, icing, heat-packing, resting, competing in fewer races. All to avoid a repeat incident. Thanks to a stupid freak weather occurrence, he was set even further back than before.

Shadow clenched his fist and closed his eyes. “Damn it anyhow,” he breathed, frustration lacing with fatigue.

But his heart softened when Sonic, who had sat down next to Mighty, leaned forward to lay a hand of loyalty on Shadow’s forearm, the young one’s verdant eyes brilliant with concern. The ebony hedgehog unclenched his own hand and sagged into the mattress, mollified somewhat. His teammate’s gesture was not quite enough to lift his spirits, but it did help. He’d have taken Sonic’s hand in his own if he weren’t ruffled or shy.

“It’ll only be for the rest of this season,” Mighty said calmly. “If everything goes well, and I have no reason to think it won’t, you’ll be back in top form by the start of next season. You heal pretty fast, that’s a big help. And thank Chaos it was just your knee and shoulder. That’s a downright miracle.” Grimacing and subdued, he went on, “You could’ve broken bones. You could’ve hit a tree.”

Shadow got it. Even with Mobian resilience and high safety standards, skiers had, in horrific instances, lost lives on downhill courses. There was also another incident on their minds. “Where’s Espio?” he asked.

“In the cafeteria with Knuckles,” said Mighty, reaching for his phone. “I’ll let them know you’re up.”

While Mighty opened his text application, Sonic said quietly to Shadow, “I remember being in class when we heard about Espio’s big crash. My history teacher was pretty upset.”

It upset many, Shadow knew. Espio survived two crashes, the second and more serious occurring five seasons ago, and was a more conservative skier ever since, at least until this season. High-speed crashes were scary to any fan, and Sonic would have been just thirteen years old at the time.

But no one feared bad crashes more than skiers themselves. A lurking anxiety disrupted Shadow’s train of thought as he now, in a visceral way, understood why Espio opted from then on to be safe rather than sorry.

Regardless, he made effort to put Sonic’s mind – and his own – at ease. “It’s why he’s one of the toughest athletes I know,” he said.

Sonic’s smile was gentle, and his confidence unshaken, as he squeezed Shadow’s arm. “So if he can get through it, you can too.”

“Thanks,” Shadow smiled back, reserved despite enjoying the touch. “I plan to.”

“And you will,” said Mighty, putting his phone away. “It won’t happen right away, but I expect you’ll heal up good as new.”

Before that pesky “not right away” proviso could dampen Shadow’s spirit too much, the door opened again, revealing Espio and Knuckles. “We were already heading back here. Got off the elevator when your text came,” explained Knuckles, carrying a tray of snacks and drinks.

In the meantime, Espio made a beeline for Shadow and put a firm hand on his good shoulder, the gesture communicating volumes of solidarity. “You good?” he said, his voice low.

Though he felt heavy, Shadow kept in mind what Mighty said and nodded. “Could be worse.”

“I know,” Espio half-smiled.

Shadow had to chuckle, even if mirthlessly, at the lightheartedness. Of course he knew. While he’d mostly been on good terms with Espio, he now regarded the chameleon with additional respect – needing over a year to heal from bone fractures, internal bleeding, a serious concussion, and a slew of lesser injuries, Espio returned to his sport better than ever. Every step of recovery was a fight, Shadow realized.

“I also know _you’ll_ get better,” his teammate stated with camaraderie. “Mostly it takes rest, and that’s the hardest part.” He paused, pensive, then admitted, “I thought about giving up skiing sometimes. Recuperation took so long, I almost thought it wouldn’t happen. Maybe I’d have retired if not for you guys.”

Shadow nodded and tried to see in positives. “If nothing else, you got to re-explore martial arts.”

The chameleon nodded as well. “Meditation especially led me to peace, helped me restructure my thinking over time. I really needed that.”

“I might try it some time,” acknowledged Shadow.

“Good,” said Mighty with a half-smile, “because you’ll have to hang in there and rest, and that _will_ be enforced.”

“We’ll sit on you if we have to,” jested Knuckles.

Arching a wry brow, Shadow asked, “Wouldn’t that bend my knee the _wrong_ way?”

“Then we’ll lock you in your room and have someone guard the door,” said Mighty nonchalantly, though his eyes sparkled with amusement.

“And the guard will change your bedpans,” added Knuckles.

Sonic, who had been entertained by the exchange until then, made a face that pulled an actual grin out of Shadow. Clearly he hadn’t considered the issue of…facilities…before. The others turned to the blue hedgehog and his expression of halfway-to-grossed-out, and everyone laughed, perhaps because they needed the release. “I’ll manage that myself, thank you,” Shadow said through his chuckles.

Still…not skiing was indeed the tip of the iceberg. He wouldn’t be bedridden entirely, but he also could not work on his bike, cook, or move about freely for a few weeks. Recovery without shortcuts would take more patience than he believed he had.

There was no other way. But the black hedgehog was not eager for it. “Chaos help me,” he muttered once they calmed down.

“We’ll all help you,” smiled Mighty.

“Yeah,” Sonic affirmed, reaching out again toward Shadow’s arm, “let us know what you need. Really.”

Despite the sadness in his heart, Shadow relished the assurance. This time he was brave: he moved his hand to take Sonic’s and squeeze it, not only because he loved the young man (whose hand was so pleasantly warm Shadow could hold it all day, and oh how well their hands linked together), but because he was so grateful he and everyone was there. In response Sonic’s smile was serene; he staunchly squeezed the elder’s hand and did not let go.

But he had to in the end. “We should let you rest starting now,” Mighty said with apology. “Another early day tomorrow.”

“I will race for all of us,” pledged Espio, rising from his seat.

“May the weather be sublime,” Knuckles said in benediction.

“Wait,” said Sonic slowly. For a couple of beats he appeared to debate himself in his head. Then, tentatively, he looked to Shadow and asked, “Do you need someone to stay with you?”

Shadow just looked back at Sonic, surprised. Though he technically didn’t _need_ it, he _wanted_ it if that someone was Sonic! But in no way could a hospital provide their hotel’s quality of accommodation…just because Sonic wasn’t racing didn’t mean he should be denied a good night’s sleep…

Mighty, however, was open to it. “Hm, why not?” Looking at Shadow, he said, “Someone can keep you company, help you with things you don’t need nurses for…or call a nurse if you can’t, for any reason.” The armadillo turned to Sonic and smiled gently. “Are you volunteering?”

After a thoughtful pause, Sonic looked at Mighty. “Yeah.” He turned to Shadow again. “I am.”

That, more than anything, touched Shadow, who said nothing while his heart soared. Maybe Sonic picked it up; he smiled, a bit demure but quite warm.

“Thanks, Sonic.” Mighty was proud of the rookie. “Let’s have a nurse bring a cot over.”

 

Later in the night, Shadow lay awake.

Losing sleep was no surprise. He was in a strange room with instruments making strange noises, and a bed much too soft to be his.

What’s more, whenever he was released – doctors advised he stay at least two nights for monitoring – reporters and photographers would flock to the hospital. He remembered the team dealing with that on Espio’s behalf. The injured chameleon was shielded from most of the spotlight, but he had to wait in the van while Mighty gave a general rundown of Espio’s condition and prognosis, and briefly fielded questions.

Would Shadow get any rest at all here?

When he turned his head to the left, he found that didn’t really matter.

The single-patient room was large enough for a cot that could suit Vector. Sonic was sound asleep in his hedgehog-sized cot, facing Shadow’s bed and the window. Shadow could make out the contours of his young face, peacefully innocent in slumber. He was swathed in a hospital blanket from neck to toe, except for a bare, limp hand hanging over the cot’s edge, protruding in Shadow’s direction.

Most of their time before bed was spent chatting and sharing the food and snacks their team brought. Shadow declined Sonic’s offer to hand-feed him, though he thought the gesture adorable. He did, however, use the hospital-issued mouthwash, and Sonic held a plastic basin under his chin while he spat it out. Not even in his worst hour could he abide sleeping all night with a dirty, germ-filled mouth.

But that wasn’t his _worst_ hour, was it? Sonic was there. His company and humor and, increasingly, his tenderness meant more than words.

Oh, that Shadow could reach out and hold his hand again.

He was certain now that he’d fight as hard for recovery as he always did for a race. The support of steadfast teammates and friends, including the very hedgehog he loved, would fortify him. They were willing to meet him at his worst – he would never have asked for this, yet there they were.

He took back every reason he was upset about Sonic’s race withdrawal, and closed his eyes.


	6. Music

He knew recovery would be a challenge. He had no idea.

Watching Espio endure month after month was hard enough. Now it was Shadow’s turn. Being the patient was more arduous than the toughest team workouts. Swimming through icy oceans wouldn’t have compared.

The journey started with home rest, lots of it, that was initially hard to find once the hospital-grade painkillers wore off. No matter what he did or didn’t do, pain was a nag. Movement was complicated with surgical incisions in an upper and a lower extremity; he found himself wondering at times if bedpans wouldn’t help after all. Tasks he once took for granted, such as motorcycle detailing, grocery shopping, and shoveling snow, brought him gloom when they came to mind.

But he clung to what silver linings he could. The incisions were keyholes, minimally invasive and intended to quicken healing. Doctors instructed he wear his arm sling for at least three weeks, which would be more annoying if Shadow weren’t ambidextrous. They expected his knee to heal in less time, about two weeks, at which point he could begin therapy and walk with a brace. Also, it was his own choice to lighten up on pain medication. Though this was the most physical pain he’d known in some time, he preferred not to rely on pills except at night, when they helped him sleep.

And he was in no way enduring alone. Rouge stayed in his home, making sure he had everything he needed. Mighty, Ray, Knuckles, Espio, and Sonic were all regular visitors – almost daily in the case of the latter three. Knuckles was mainly there to accompany Rouge and help run errands, Espio wanted to join him on the path he’d once walked, and Sonic…

By Chaos, Sonic didn’t have to be there at all. Home life gave him his own obligations, such as dinner with his parents every night and with his siblings once a week, on top of training with the team. Yet most days he was keen to show up after dinner with Espio and entertainment options that included books, board games, a laptop with movies, and his acoustic guitar. Apparently his family bore no hard feelings. The exact opposite, in fact: two days after he arrived home, Sonic brought a care package they all assembled for him. “Sonia and Manic would love to meet you one day,” said the blue hedgehog of his siblings in particular.

Shadow promised himself he’d thank Sonic’s family in person. In part because of them, he got to see Sonic, enjoy divertissements with him, and – best of all, in his opinion – watch him play guitar in both classical and modern styles.

The energetic hedgehog wasn’t all fun and games, either. He offered to help Rouge with chores so she could rest and, a few days in, offered to be Shadow’s personal crutch so he could take short standing breaks on his good leg. Shadow agreed to that (feigning reluctance, naturally) because he had _no_ problems _whatsoever_ leaning bodily against Sonic, absorbing his warmth as his teammate curled a peach-furred arm snug about his middle, keeping him upright without weighing down his knee.

He learned more about Sonic than he ever had and, when the young man wasn’t there, missed him more than he ever thought possible.

But, in his moments alone, he pondered. What was on Sonic’s mind? Maybe he was just hero-worshipping Shadow, which he could, indeed _should_ , outgrow with time. Not to say the elder hedgehog didn’t appreciate all the consideration he showed in the process, but his heart may not be in the same place as Shadow’s. The teen had the world to live for; why on Mobius would he pledge himself to another so seriously and so soon?

He kept such thoughts to himself, not confiding even in Rouge, unsure how to speak to Sonic and what Sonic would be open to…deeply afraid to find out.

Time would have to show him the path to take.

 

Fitted for a custom knee brace, he began to walk the week before his arm sling came off. The team physical therapist made house visits four mornings a week. Mighty was proved correct when the surgeon followed up on his knee and shoulder: Shadow was a fast healer who could very likely be back at full strength with months of steady therapy and rehabilitation, even ahead of schedule.

The highlights of those days were when Rouge stopped by to pick him up on her lunch breaks. She couldn’t do that every time, nor did he ask her to; some days rendered her busy with errands, phone calls, or meetings. But she knew a change of scenery would do him good. So when possible she brought him to Sky High’s training room, where he could see the rest of the team. Rouge’s grin at the sight of Sonic running up to hug him revealed the inkling she had of their closeness – though, with his arms full of joyful blue hedgehog, Shadow could not care less what anyone thought.

Week by week he felt restored. He looked forward to using training equipment again, specifically the stationary bikes, before too long. Knuckles and the team created a simple stretch routine designed to include Shadow on the days he came in. He lay on a tumbling mat with his leg propped on pillows during their workouts. They also kept up their home visits, albeit with less frequency, but he welcomed them no less for it.

Over time, Sonic became his most regular visitor. Espio, with a full race schedule, was away more often. So were Knuckles and Mighty, by extension. The young man could have joined his teammates and cheered Espio on, but he offered to stay behind, help lighten Rouge’s load, keep Shadow company. _I am so glad for your rookie schedule_ , Shadow would tell him if he were brave.

On one such day he brought his guitar, strumming a lazy tune while the two sat on the living room sectional couch in the black hedgehog’s home. “It’s old,” Sonic had explained before, when Shadow noticed the variety of bumper stickers and decals that emblazoned the instrument. “My dad gave me this when I was twelve, and I’ve never needed another.”

“Like an old friend who’s helped you grow,” Shadow had commented.

“Exactly. That’s why I love it,” grinned Sonic.

Seeing additional facets of him was nice, and he was more relaxed of late, much more _himself_. He was far from perfect, of course; Sonic confessed tendencies toward impulsivity and impatience, for which his whole family (most of all his sister Sonia, the eldest) had taken him to task. As he played guitar today, he told a story of trouble he got into with his brother Manic when they met some rock musicians they both adored. “We were such brats,” he admitted, his face rueful. “We didn’t care that the band was tired, played two encores, and just wanted to get back to their trailers – we _had_ to have their autographs. I made Manic follow me through the back security gates, and we basically chased them down waving our dumb t-shirts in their faces. They signed them and didn’t get mad at us, but security walked us out, and Mom and Dad _schooled_ us afterwards.”

Shadow had to laugh. He’d attended his share of loud concerts with Rouge back in their day, and remembered excited young Mobians at every one. He wouldn’t have put it past any of them to do what Sonic described. “I’m guessing that never happened again?” he teased.

Sonic shook his head. “My parents told me, ‘If you were them, you wouldn’t want that.’ So, nope.” With a chuckle, he added, “Ever since then, I get a little nervous around famous people. Like I wanna talk to them but don’t know how to without wasting their time.”

His left arm atop the couch’s back cushion, Shadow leaned into it and regarded his teammate with an affectionate curiosity. “Were you ever that way with us?” he asked.

Sonic looked at him, slightly caught off guard, unable to keep a bashful smile off his face as he lowered his gaze. All the while, he never missed a note on the guitar. “Well…maybe. I skied for fun, not to turn pro like you guys. Then one day…there you were.” A certain fondness seeped into his tone. “I thought the day I ever met you would be to ask for an autograph. But I got way more than that. Can’t put a price on it.”

Shadow just smiled, not allowing himself to get carried away by the warmth Sonic’s words inspired, though a part of him _wanted_ to. “As long as I’m not scary anymore,” he said in gentle humor.

“Well…you are, in a good way,” said Sonic, a bit shy. “What you’ve accomplished. Your focus and dedication. You don’t flake on _any_ thing.”

“Probably because I love what I do. When you really love something, no detail is too small,” Shadow counselled.

As he spoke, he watched Sonic, whose sure hands moved along the strings and fretboard as naturally as he breathed. The dark lashes of his lowered eyes rested over the peach fur of his muzzle, and his soft mouth was pursed in thought. Bedecked in an olive green hoodie and stonewashed jeans, his blue feet bare and the left one bobbing with the music’s rhythm, he could easily be at home on a concert stage himself. Shadow marveled at his versatility, his artistry.

He could almost say it to him.

_I love you._

Instead he continued after a brief pause, “And from what I’ve seen, you _do_ love to ski. You might grow to love it even more, because there’s always something to learn.”

“Even for you?” Sonic raised luminous eyes toward Shadow as he tilted his head.

“Even for me,” Shadow agreed. “This whole recovery process has been a huge lesson.”

“Not a lesson I’d wish on anyone,” grinned Sonic.

“That’s one of the first things I learned,” Shadow grinned back, and Sonic laughed light and free, keeping the music going.

The elder hedgehog enjoyed the ring of his laugh…and then something dawned on him after a few moments, and curiosity got the better of him again. He asked gingerly, “Sonic, could you _sing_ a song?”

That stilled Sonic’s hands, and the young man turned to him with wide eyes.

Putting Sonic on the spot wasn’t Shadow’s intent. It was just…he’d only heard Sonic sing once, with the others at his birthday gathering. How would he sound solo?

Lovely, he was certain.

But Sonic appeared less certain. “A-heh,” he chuckled, self-conscious but trying not to show it despite holding his guitar closer to his body, “what would you like to hear?”

“Anything you want,” replied Shadow with a friendly shrug. “I think I trust your taste more than mine.”

Sonic blinked. “You don’t have favorite songs?”

“I listen to instrumentals mostly,” said Shadow, “maybe turn on the radio every so often. But nothing with lyrics sticks out for me right now.” He smiled benevolently. “So go ahead and choose.”

“I’m your entertainer, huh?” A half-smile worked itself onto Sonic’s face. “Hmm…I’m in the mood for something kinda breezy. One of my favorites is by an Earth group my dad likes, but not many here have heard of them.”

Shadow swept an upturned palm forward in invitation. “Have at it.”

Letting out a deep exhale, Sonic nodded and set down his pick. He hunched over a bit and sat still as if giving himself an internal pep talk – at this point Shadow was tempted to call it off, he really wasn’t trying to burden his teammate with a case of nerves – then his fingers began to pluck a slow-rhythmed melody. He looked up, lost in thought, as he played. “I only remember part of the song,” he said. “Hope I get the words right, it’s been a while since I last heard it.”

Shadow just nodded and waited. Liking the music already, he relaxed into his cushion, his legs (the left one braced) stretched on the couch between the two of them. In a bid not to make Sonic any more self-conscious, he closed his eyes.

They flew open again when Sonic began to sing.

“ _There is always someone/ For each of us they say/ And you’ll be my someone/ Forever and a day/_ …”

His introduction was mildly hesitant; he paused after each of the first two lines. Shadow was arrested regardless, because Sonic’s voice was clear and _flawless_. That harmony at his birthday party only hinted at its sweetness. Now he was hearing it in full, and it was the most mellifluous sound he had ever known, seeming to reach the nooks and crannies of his home.

“ _I could search the whole world over/ Until my life is through/ But I know I’ll never find another you/_ …”

Entranced, Shadow watched the youth’s face reflect the soul in the music. He was pouring his all into giving the song proper expression.

 _Chaos_ , he was beautiful.

Gaining some sureness, the younger hedgehog sang on: “ _It’s a long, long journey/ So stay by my side/ When I walk through the storm/ You’ll be my guide, be my guide/_ …”

Shadow could melt into the couch, so ravishing was the sound – he closed his eyes again, aware of his own smile. Sonic treated his voice as its own instrument, a honeyed tenor with a slight rough edge, more precious than any created with Mobian or human hands.

His memory wandered back to those concerts he attended with Rouge, and later with Knuckles joining them. A few of the acts played acoustic versions of their well-known songs. Shadow always preferred the acoustic pieces because, to him, they more elegantly expressed the heart of the songs.

“ _If they gave me a fortune/ My pleasure would be small/ I could lose it all tomorrow/ And never mind at all/_ …”

Sonic’s performance was so full of heart that Shadow felt positively serenaded. He was an audience of one being treated to a live performance so intimate in its simplicity, it was like an audial hug.

“ _But if I should lose your love dear/ I don’t know what I’d do/_ …”

Here Sonic trailed off for a bit, and Shadow heard himself. Rumbling like an engine. He hadn’t purred like this in such a long time.

After a moment that included the couch shuffling beneath Shadow’s feet, Sonic resumed plucking, and quietly sang one more line: “… _For I know I’ll never find another you._ ”

A few more gentle plucks, and the song ended.

Shadow didn’t stop purring immediately, for he welcomed the echo of Sonic’s lilting voice in his mind. He also considered the lyrics. It was a love song of good caliber…

The ebony hedgehog opened his eyes.

Sonic no longer faced him now. He was visible only in profile to Shadow, sitting up very straight and hugging his guitar almost as if it were a life preserver. His eyes were wide open and…was his face _red_?

If he was embarrassed, Shadow had to convince him otherwise. “Sonic,” he murmured, squeezing his couch cushion, “that was… _amazing_.”

But Sonic still didn’t turn to face him. Seemed to refuse to, even. He swallowed and said in a weak voice, “It was the first song that popped into my head. I just…went with it.”

He seemed _ashamed_ of what he’d just done. It made no sense to Shadow, who frowned. “You just gave me a private concert. It was beautiful, Sonic,” he said, both truthful and comforting. “Actually…I’d love to hear more, if that’s okay.”

At that, Sonic closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. Shadow hadn’t framed his encouragement as a demand, but that was how Sonic appeared to be processing it. Or so he thought, until the young man turned and looked into his eyes with a gaze that was as searching as it was scared.

The elder hedgehog sat still, projecting calm while his mind begged _Please tell me what I did wrong_.

Finally, Sonic’s shoulders relaxed and he brought his gaze downward. He covered the root of his sudden embarrassment, whatever it was, with a shrug and an apologetic half-smile. “Now _I’m_ drawing a blank,” he said softly. “Not sure what else I can sing.”

“I like your guitar solos too, you don’t have to sing,” Shadow replied, his tone conciliatory.

“Okay,” smiled a less-flustered Sonic, though his entire demeanor had quieted down. He prepped the guitar and his posture, adjusting his hold on the instrument. “How about something with more kick?”

 

Later that night, as he lay in bed, the black hedgehog was hit with the mother of all delayed reactions.

Sonic was fine for the rest of his visit, returning to his laidback, non-competitive-mode self as it went on. Coming by with food, Rouge caught him just before he left, which further lifted everyone’s mood. Shadow had grown very fond of Sonic’s bear hugs; that was no less the case today as his teammate departed, and he was grateful he could return it with both arms. Then the bat ate dinner with her longtime friend and helped around the house as Shadow prepared for bed. Since he could now get around steadily on his own, she headed home to Knuckles, as always with the insistence that he call her, in the deadest of night even, if he needed anything.

He was just about to turn off his nightstand light when he was thunderstruck.

 _Sonic_ sang him a _love song_.

The pleasant tune had taken up residence in his head, such that he was humming it as he changed into his pajamas. Certain lyrics were catchy too.

_…I’ll never find another you._

He undoubtedly believed that about this amazing blue hedgehog. But said hedgehog sang it to _him_.

Shadow took a deep breath, feeling every bit the schoolboy he never was, not wanting to resort to wishful thinking without further proof yet _oh_ so wishfully thinking.

Was this a matter he would dare bring up to Sonic?

The champion skier and erstwhile ruffian found little if anything to fear in day-to-day life. As his strength rebounded, he could treat even his accident as an ordeal he survived, an experience he was determined to grow from. If losing Maria and Gerald didn’t kill him, neither should anything else just yet.

But he’d sooner take a thousand daggers to the heart than risk rejection from the hedgehog he loved.

Shadow sighed. He had to sleep on it. Try to, anyway.

 

The next day began with breakfast, physical therapy, and a light stroll around the backyard. Espio and the others had returned to town the night before and group-texted him, Sonic, and Rouge to announce the resumption of their training this afternoon. Sonic’s simple thumbs-up response drew a warm smile from Shadow. Rouge, already at Sky High, asked Shadow if he was up for a visit. He replied, _Sure_.

The two best friends ate a companionable lunch at Shadow’s house before she drove him to Sky High. She didn’t need to, but she walked him to the elevator before heading out to the reception area. Alone he went down to the training room level, where the others had already begun.

Fresh from his victory two days prior, Espio grinned and gave Shadow his usual one-armed hug. “Looking better every day!”

“Thank you, and congratulations,” smiled Shadow. “Another hundred fifty points to the title.”

Espio beamed, looking and surely feeling healthier than he had in years. But he shrugged as well. “It’s not done till it’s done.”

The first skier to accrue the most race points was named the overall Mobius Cup winner. As was the case with prize money, more points were awarded to higher placements in each race. Espio was the frontrunner by about five hundred points – a good lead, but complacency could cost him. And Shadow certainly didn’t wish an accident on him two and a half weeks before Holoska. “You have it in you to get it done,” he asserted.

Knuckles and Sonic wandered over in the meantime; the two were in the middle of a jump rope warm-up when Shadow entered. “You sure do,” Knuckles agreed. “And I will kick the weather’s ass if it tries to deny you.”

“Let’s not get on the weather’s bad side, yeah?” Espio chuckled, waving a hand.

“I know, I know. Cheers, weather, and sorry. _Please_ be good to us.” Knuckles raised clasped hands as his gaze went heavenward.

Shadow shook his head, amused, until he realized something was amiss. That’s right…he hadn’t greeted Sonic. Come to think of it, Sonic hadn’t approached him as usual. He stood beside Knuckles with hands behind him, only smiling when Shadow smiled at him, and hesitantly at that.

Keeping a frown off his face, the dark hedgehog reached toward Sonic, and they embraced. But it felt different today. Like there was a barrier between them. Shadow looked at him, unable to mask his concern. “How are you?” he asked.

Sonic flashed another smile, but its brightness was partially obscured. “Good. And it’s good to see you again. How’s your day going?”

“It’s going well,” Shadow replied, his tone mellow despite his confusion. “Therapy’s really helping.”

The younger hedgehog’s smile was more sincere this time, but he still behaved as if keeping Shadow at arm’s length. “You’re walking like it. I’m glad.”

“Having you back training with us again will be awesome,” affirmed Knuckles. “We’re about to get into stretches right now. Wanna join?”

“Sure,” Shadow nodded, though he hid his discomfiture.

He wasn’t used to hiding from Sonic. Not like this.

The routine was quick, twenty minutes total, but it gave everyone work to do and provided relief for Shadow in particular. Afterward he settled in an ergonomic chair and kept himself busy, occasionally rising to do more stretches off to the side, as the others trained. However, he couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering toward the blue hedgehog, who worked out diligently as always but lacked his usual fire, and seemed to avoid looking in his direction. If Knuckles or Espio noticed, neither commented on it.

The longer it went on, the more disconcerted Shadow felt. His mind told him to let it go; his heart, which missed the Sonic he knew, wondered _why?_

At the end of the day Knuckles and Espio left with a round of goodbyes, and Shadow waited for Rouge’s ride home. Sonic, the last to go, went to say goodbye to Shadow. “Glad you’re getting better. I gotta run home, Mom and Dad are waiting.”

Before he could lose his nerve, and not caring how plaintive he might sound, Shadow asked, “Sonic, are you okay?”

Sonic blinked. “I…yeah, I mean…”

His eyes made contact with Shadow’s for the first time all day – he really _saw_ him. Then his face grew sad, and he broke his gaze. “I…I’ve been thinking about next season. Whether I’ll be around.”

Shadow retained his composure, but in that moment he couldn’t tell whether it showed in his face. “You…might not stay on?” he asked, his throat tight.

Sonic looked down at his hands. After an awkward pause, he said, “I knew the Mobius Cup would be tough, but…it’s been tougher in more ways than I thought. I’m thinking about what I’ll do when this season ends.” Staring into the space in front of him as he folded slender arms over his abdomen, he continued, “Sonia went to fashion design academy right out of high school. Manic took a year off and then went to trade school. Me…maybe this is _my_ gap year.”

He ventured to look at Shadow, his attempted smile shy and a bit sad. “It’s been an awesome year. It really has. I just…I don’t know if skiing is my future anymore.”

Not since he lost Maria had Shadow felt this crestfallen.

He fought to keep his focus outward, on Sonic…who, if he was seeing right, didn’t appear to actually _want_ to leave. Unless Shadow was projecting onto him. Maybe he’d landed in denial. No, Sonic couldn’t be leaving, he just arrived, they were getting to know each other, Shadow liked him too much…he _couldn’t_ be leaving already-

In the tumult of his emotions, he was unable to verbalize the questions he wanted and _needed_ to ask. _Why? What brought this on?_

_…What did I do?_

All he could say, with a swallow and a smile despite his heart landing somewhere around his ankles, was, “…I’m sorry to hear that. It’s been awesome having you.”

Sonic’s brow creased. He must have seen through the surface, because he reached a hand out to Shadow in a bid to console.

The door opened. They both swung to face Rouge entering the training room. “Hey guys. Ready to go?”

Casting one last contrite glance at Shadow, Sonic nodded. “Yeah. I was just heading out.” He moved to quickly hug the bat and then, more delicately, the black hedgehog. Shadow returned the hug with one weak arm.

Once the youth waved goodbye and left, Rouge turned to Shadow with discerning eyes. “What happened?”

Shadow sighed from his depths, gaze downcast. “I’ll tell you over dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll Never Find Another You,” by The Seekers - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KmactMIhrRM
> 
> It’s stuck with me since my dad rediscovered his inner Seekers fan. Sonic would perform it a little slower and at a more tenor-suited key.
> 
> This marks, I think, the fic’s halfway point. Big thanks to all who’ve kudo’d, commented, bookmarked, and/or subscribed. I appreciate you. :)


	7. Inching Along

He tried to eat, though his body barely cooperated.

Like clockwork he pushed at it anyway – piercing leftover pasta with his fork, raising it to his mouth, chewing, swallowing.

Food was in abundance at Shadow’s house. The team and Rouge showered him with such generosity during his recovery, he had days’ worth of food in his refrigerator and freezer, not to mention a pantry full of snacks mailed in by well-wishing fans. It didn’t hurt that the pasta came from one of Rouge’s favorite restaurants downtown, and Rouge had fantastic restaurant taste.

But as nice as the pasta still was, he didn’t enjoy it. The texture was off. The taste was bland. It just wasn’t the same.

He chewed mechanically, if only to give himself something to do.

Talking was _not_ a thing he wished to do yet, though he accepted it was inevitable with Rouge. The bat gave him his space, sitting in silence across the table whilst texting Knuckles, most likely. She’d known the hedgehog long enough to understand that, with Shadow, biding time was key.

Telling Rouge wasn’t the worst that could happen, really. He’d hit a dead end as far as handling his feelings for Sonic. Those feelings had turned unpleasant over the mere possibility that Shadow would no longer get to see Sonic every day. Never had he found himself in an emotional groundswell quite like this. Yes, crashing out of the Mobius Cup was bad, as was losing races. He’d also suffered plenty of growing pains with Rouge, close as they were and protective as his best friend could be. But this…

Because he’d given Sonic his heart, and Sonic may well be leaving, he felt appallingly out of control in ways he could not have imagined.

He needed help.

“Heh,” Rouge chuckled, still looking down at her phone, “Knux just finished half _our_ leftover pasta. ‘Rest is in the fridge babe,’ he tells me.”

“He knows you so well,” said Shadow idly, eating the last of his dinner.

“Knows I’d have words with him if he took it all,” the bat grinned, standing to pick up the hedgehog’s dish and utensils. She’d polished off her own plate a few minutes ago, Shadow having insisted she share some of his leftovers, so his dish joined hers in the sink.

Then she turned toward him, leaning back against the counter with ankles crossed, arms stretched out on either side and propping her up. “What I want to know is, are you ready to talk?”

Shadow sighed, long and heavy. “Not sure where to begin.”

“Does it have to do with Sonic?” asked a pragmatic Rouge.

Begrudgingly the hedgehog nodded. “He said he might not stay on the team next season.”

Both eyebrows raising, Rouge cocked her head. “Really? Wouldn’t have figured that. He’s practically the life of the party at training.”

“I didn’t see it coming either,” mumbled Shadow, shaking his head.

“Hmm…did he say why?”

Swallowing at the memory of Sonic’s words and their impact, he said with eyes lowered, “Just that he’s thinking through career options. Not sure if he wants to keep skiing.”

The bat sighed. “Fair enough. This _is_ a great time to assess where he wants to go.” She turned a gentle yet scrutinizing gaze toward Shadow. “But why is that upsetting you?”

Oh, Chaos.

Shadow closed his eyes, the words _Because I love Sonic_ stuck in his throat. His heart’s true desire was to personally tell the blue hedgehog _I love you_. But to speak those words, even to a third party, meant drilling through walls he’d built around himself – a scarier prospect than he’d anticipated.

That work had already begun though, hadn’t it?

If not, Sonic leaving wouldn’t grieve him as much as it did. He had left his mark, indelible as a tattoo Shadow was not keen to blot out, if he even could.

_Rouge and Knuckles began somewhere, didn’t they?_

He thought back to the first days of their relationship and, in hindsight, came to wonder about Knuckles’ point of view. So he looked up and answered Rouge with a question of his own. “How long did it take for Knuckles to ask you out?”

The bat arched a fine brow, teal eyes inquisitive; she went along with the question, knowing Shadow was going somewhere. “A few weeks. He was nervous.” A fond smile found its way to her face as she crossed her arms and eased into a slouch. “Very nervous, actually, which was why I didn’t know for so long. I really could’ve spoken up much sooner. But you know all the guys I’d been with before. I pursued them, more often than not. I decided not to do that with Knux…guess I was at a point where I wanted something serious, so I waited for _him_ to come to _me_. If he stepped up, then I knew for sure he wanted it too.”

Shadow nodded, both privy to Rouge’s dating history and newly interested in her experience with the echidna. There were a number of questions he’d never thought to ask before, he realized. “How did you know you loved Knuckles? I mean, what made you _want_ to be with him?”

Rouge grinned. “What can I pinpoint?” Tapping her chin with two fingers, she continued, “Remember when I went downtown to get things for that one Ski Jumpers’ Association meeting? What a crazy week that was…I must’ve been out of my mind with all that organizing, because somehow I locked myself outside my car. My keys, wallet, _everything_ was in the passenger seat, _taunting_ me.” She threw her hands up in annoyance, fresh as the moment it happened. “Never thought I’d regret not learning how to lockpick, but there it was. I had to run inside the store and ask to use their phone, but in my panic the only number I could remember offhand was yours. You weren’t free to help-”

“Hadn’t come back from a race yet,” confirmed Shadow.

“-so I asked you to call Knuckles. He was in town because you guys hadn’t hired him yet. He came without question.” Her smile revealed how moved she was, even years later. “He put up with my hysterics and was such a gentleman. That was just one instance of him making me feel _seen_. Once I understood that, I fell for him.” She chuckled. “Good thing _he_ knew how to lockpick. I had him teach me later on.”

The hedgehog half-smiled at Rouge, a woman who came of age in a rough neighborhood and vowed to do better for herself. She had fought her whole life for her own good, then for Shadow’s, and finally for Knuckles’. Nevertheless, for all that toughness, her heart had soft spots that she could admit to. The biggest belonged to Knuckles, and she loved to talk about him.

He related now. Every time he thought of Sonic (such as right this moment), his heart felt…fuzzy. Like an Earth kitten. His smile grew.

Rouge aimed another quizzical look at her best friend. “So what do Knuckles and I have to do with-”

She interrupted herself, and her jaw slackened. Shadow held his gaze and waited.

“Oh, hon,” she breathed in a low voice, standing up straight as she put two and two together. “ _Shadow_.”

“I want to know how Knuckles asked you out,” said the hedgehog, keeping his quiet tone even, “because I want to do that for Sonic.”

A grin of pure delight spread across Rouge’s face. “Hon,” she said, lowering herself into a chair across from Shadow, “all this time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you fall for anyone. I knew you guys were close but…how has he won you over?” Her eyes shone with girlish excitement. “Was it the gloves?”

Now Shadow could not contain neither his own grin, nor the outpour of heartfelt tenderness. “Partly. Because they showed me that, as you said…he saw me. For a long time I figured I was just his skiing hero, but over and over he proves he sees _me_. Cares about who _I_ am no matter how low I get, does everything he can to help me climb back up. And he’s so _alive_.” His eyes momentarily closed as he released a blissful sigh. “He could be a hero in his own right one day. In fact, I know he will.”

 _He’s also the cutest, most attractive, most beautiful creature I’ve ever met._ Though he deemed that overly gushy even for confiding to Rouge (who already regarded him with the most touched expression he’d ever seen her aim his way), it made his heart glow all the same.

However, his mind returned to the reality of what had upset him earlier. “I have to ask him out before the season ends,” he murmured. “Who knows where he’ll go after...”

“He didn’t say he’s _set_ on leaving, did he?” The bat placed a supportive hand on Shadow’s shoulder.

Casting his gaze down at his hands, he shook his head. “I don’t understand why he would even think about it. Is it me…?”

“Now hon,” Rouge’s hand gripped Shadow a fraction tighter and her voice turned kind, “don’t talk like that.”

“He told me this season has been tougher in more ways than he expected,” Shadow lamented.

“Did he get more specific about that?”

“No.”

“Then it doesn’t matter. We don’t know what’s going through his mind beyond what he said. The only way you _will_ know is by talking to him.” She leaned in and added, “Your best chance might come at the potluck.”

He knew that. The team liked to mark the season’s final two weeks with a good-luck sendoff, helped along with a generous meal as always. This year it was to be held at Shadow’s home; everyone would come to him, and he didn’t have to cook.

Of course, should Sonic not return next season, he was open to whipping up a tried-and-true dish, one that would help the young man remember him on good terms…

“All Knuckles did,” said Rouge, “was take me aside one day after we’d run some errands, sit us down for drinks, and tell me. He admitted he wasn’t sure how I’d take it…I guess he thought I wouldn’t see him in that light. But the biggest reason he spoke up was he had to _know_ how I’d respond. The ‘what-ifs’ flying around in his head were killing him.” She shrugged. “Maybe you two can talk after everyone leaves?”

A good plan, Shadow acknowledged to himself, as he nodded at Rouge. She had shown him a way forward. He felt calmer despite his stomach tied in knots at the notion of _confessing_ to Sonic. “Thanks, Rouge,” he sighed. “It’s good to have an idea of what to do.”

“It is,” smiled Rouge. “I mean…not saying our situations are identical, but I liked Knuckles for weeks before he asked me out. Who’s to say you’ve no chance with Sonic?” She couldn’t help a warm giggle. “He’s so _attached_ to you, too. Did you know he called me the day you crashed? He was so out of sorts, I thought he’d burst into tears.”

The hedgehog’s brow knit. Sonic never mentioned that. On one hand it made Shadow’s heart flutter; on the other, he felt responsible for troubling his teammate so.

Yet…the ensuing weeks were among the sweetest for Shadow because, more than anyone apart from Rouge, Sonic refused to let him go it alone. He surrendered family and free time, in between his own races and training, to be at his side when possible. And he balanced everything like it was no hardship at all, bringing music and melody alongside him.

The young hedgehog showed himself strong in every way that counted. Right when Shadow thought he couldn’t love him more…

He closed his eyes, mind made up.

“I’ll tell him first how well he’s doing as a skier, try to bring up possibilities for next season.” Taking a deep, resolute breath, he looked his best friend in the eye. “I’ll ask him out before the night is over.”

“That,” said Rouge, grinning in proud approval, “is the Shadow I know. Go _get_ him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...There might be a story in why Rouge can't lockpick and Knuckles can. XD


	8. Diving In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest I’m not really sure how this chapter turned out, and school (which started again this past week) doesn’t leave me too much time to tweak it, so I hope it’s okay…?

He was chopping vegetables on a sunny weekend afternoon when his cell phone buzzed.

The new text read: _Hey Shadow, mind if I come early? Bringing Mom’s chili dog stuff, can also give you a hand if you need it._

He asked, _Sure, how early?_

A few moments later, Sonic replied, _Maybe an hour. Is that okay?_

 _That works_ , he agreed. _See you soon._

In truth he eagerly and gladly received Sonic’s request, as he hadn’t gone to the training room over the past two days, and Sonic had not come to his house. He missed the lad a great deal. However, that feeling was tempered by today’s additional preparations.

Thankfully stew was a convenient slow-cooker entrée. Once he’d diced, chopped, and poured in all the ingredients, he turned the cooker setting on high. The stew would be ready just in time.

Then he took a shower, carefully setting aside his knee brace. He would have chosen cold water to aid his alertness, but he was plenty alert already – he needed to _relax_ , so a warm shower it was. Once that was done (using his best shampoo, the one that gave his fur a smooth shine), he got out, toweled down, and brushed his teeth with utmost care. His appetite was not ravenous today, but he did eat brunch and refused to let it show on his teeth.

Drying his fur fully and donning navy blue skinny jeans, he fitted his brace back on. His shirt already picked out and ironed for the day, he slid into it and straightened his back as he buttoned himself in up to the patch of white fur on his chest, allowing a few snowy wisps to peek through the top.

He stared at his crimson-eyed reflection in the mirror, and sighed.

Today’s venue was not a downhill ski course. It was his heart, and Sonic’s.

As much as he tried to be convinced of the unhelpfulness of that metaphor – how badly did he want to intimidate himself? – he couldn’t shake it off. Sure, no matter what they spoke of today and how Sonic responded to him, they were still teammates. Shadow’s history with the team assured that he would hew to its sportsmanship ethic, whatever it took.

But…should Sonic turn him down, it would take a lot. He was less than proud of his reaction to the blue hedgehog even suggesting he would leave the team. If Shadow asked him on a date and he said no…

 _Tch._ This was ridiculous.

The veteran athlete squared his shoulders. He promised himself and Rouge that he would ask his teammate out. As such, he would accept and bear any fallout from their interactions today, and always. He loved Sonic. That was all there was to it.

Clearing his throat, he gave himself a calm look. “Sonic,” he began, rehearsing his confidence and the register of his voice, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you…”

 

Before he knew it, an hour and a half of self-coaching and pacing about the house had flown by, and the doorbell was ringing.

His heart leaped into his throat. Sonic was on his doorstep.

Sucking in a deep breath, he rose from the couch and, to his best ability, strode to the front door, checking its peephole before opening it.

His countenance softened. He had texted Sonic two days earlier, informing that he’d opted to rest at home for the remainder of the week rather than attend training. The young man had acknowledged it, and they had exchanged no further words until today.

Now he stood on his porch, a covered aluminum tray topped with a package of hot dog buns in his hands, dressed in casual attire as wonderfully as only Sonic could – that white hooded jacket brought out the splendid blue of his fur – smile a blend of apprehensive and hopeful. Shadow really needed the extra time to rest for the potluck, and it was already paying off; he could not be gladder to see his teammate again.

“Hey,” greeted the teen softly, emerald-hued eyes lit by the afternoon sun. Oh, how Shadow had missed those eyes.

“Hey,” Shadow smiled, reaching out for the tray.

“Thanks…I have more stuff in the trunk,” said Sonic.

“Okay.” With a nod, Shadow carried the buns and the tray (warm and full of hot dogs, from the feel and smell of it) to the kitchen. _He could’ve boiled them here,_ thought the sable hedgehog. But he didn’t dwell on it anymore, focusing instead on pulling out a rimmed cookie sheet and laying the buns on them. Moments later the front door closed and Sonic walked in with a large pot and a tote bag, the contents of which included _more_ hot dog buns, hanging off his elbow. “No no, I got it!” he insisted as Shadow moved to help him. True to his word he hefted the pot onto the stove in a single smooth motion.

“Chaos, this could feed an army,” remarked Shadow.

“I told Mom how many people there were and, um, also mentioned Vector. She was on top of it,” grinned Sonic. “The chili is her family’s recipe. And we boiled the ‘dogs at home because she didn’t want to make you work too hard.”

The elder hedgehog urged Sonic to thank his mother for that very considerate gesture. They spent the next three-quarters of an hour organizing the food area, tasting the chili (Shadow admired Sonic’s mom’s skill – she knew her seasonings!) as well as the stew (Shadow would forever remember the bliss on Sonic’s face as he tried a spoonful), and updating each other on the past couple of days. Sonic was happy to see Shadow well, and Shadow was ecstatic to have Sonic in his home again, though he carried himself as smoothly as he could.

Settling at the dining room table when they finished in the kitchen, mugs of tea sending up steam in their hands, Shadow watched the younger hedgehog with attentiveness as he spoke. After a short lull, Sonic gripped his mug a bit tighter and admitted, “I came earlier to apologize for dropping that news on you. About next season.”

Ah. Shadow nodded, lips drawn into a thin, sober line. “It did throw me a little.”

“Yeah. I thought so.” Sonic’s eyes turned downward toward the table surface.

The black hedgehog leaned forward, even dared to scoot his chair an inch closer to Sonic’s. “I mean…I do respect your decision. Because you’re right, racing season is non-stop, more so after your rookie year.” Steeling himself, he continued, “But I still want to say you’ve handled this season…” he paused, deliberate with his word choice, “…beautifully. You’ve given your all at every training session. Haven’t finished out of the top ten in any of your races. I’m impressed. I didn’t manage that in _my_ first season.”

Sonic leaned backwards in surprise. “Really? But…you started winning races a lot sooner as a rookie. I haven’t won one yet…” He turned his gaze toward his mug, blushing as he processed Shadow’s high praise, which indeed he rarely handed out.

“That’s not the point,” replied Shadow, almost tender. “You’re building consistency and endurance. And you still have two more races left, including Holoska.” He spared a glance down at his own mug before venturing on. “If you haven’t made a final decision yet, I ask you to think things over, Sonic. I really see a future with our team for you.” After a pause he added, with a hint of wistfulness, “In many ways, you’ve been fantastic for…for us.”

 _For me_ , he just kept himself from saying.

Sonic, for his part, looked stunned. And for a moment, Shadow second-guessed himself. He was being truthful and had kept his voice calm and low-key, which was his normal. But did he come across as pressuring the youth anyway?

 _If you really love him,_ he told himself, _you need to let him choose._

He lifted his mug with both hands and sipped.

“I…” Sonic quietly broke the silence, eyes as bright as they were conflicted. The imprint of Shadow’s words were visible in the blue hedgehog’s meek smile. “…thank you, Shadow. That means a lot coming from you.” He shifted in his seat, moving his hands into his lap. “I’ll think it over…”

“Okay,” nodded Shadow.

“…and I have nothing against you guys either. At all,” Sonic continued with great warmth, and Shadow could swear that warmth enveloped his whole being when the younger hedgehog looked into his eyes. “I love this team. You guys’ve invested so much in me, and you’re all amazing…you’re like family to me.”

If Shadow were not holding his mug then, he might have reached forward and cradled Sonic’s face in his hands…

It hurt to look at Sonic, in all his genial beauty that beckoned to him. Perhaps he could harness this momentum he’d built.

Perhaps he could be bold now, once and for all.

He breathed in deep. “Sonic, there’s…something else I’ve been meaning to ask you-”

The doorbell rang.

Ears flattening, and with half a mind to spear the doorbell were he able, he checked his watch as a means to inwardly calm down.

The others were punctual today.

Jaw tense as his inner voice rounded on him for losing track of time, he looked apologetically at a perplexed Sonic. “Sorry, can it wait?”

“Y-yeah,” replied Sonic, his brow creased, “sure. Don’t move! I’ll get it.” Quick as a thought, he patted Shadow’s arm and rose to answer the door, unwittingly allowing Shadow a moment to roll his eyes up to the ceiling in private annoyance. Waiting till the _end_ of the night was the original plan! How could he get ahead of himself like that!

Rouge and Knuckles’ amiable greetings echoed in the entryway, and roused the mildly irritated hedgehog out of his seat. He was calm again for the most part by the time he reached the kitchen, where the rest had drifted. They were enjoying conversation as Knuckles laid a broad tray down on the counter near Sonic’s hot dogs. The couple waved at Shadow and, as Knuckles and Sonic kept up their chat, Rouge pulled Shadow aside. “We got here ten minutes early,” she murmured, “and saw Sonic’s car. I convinced Knuckles to wait till the time was right. Did we interrupt anything?”

“Maybe you saved me from making an idiot of myself,” Shadow replied. “I almost asked him.”

Rouge gaped at him. “You’re ready, all right! That might be a good sign.”

Shadow snorted. “Have to get through the night before we know that for sure.”

“No sweat. Look what I brought for the toast.” Grinning, Rouge reached into the paper bag in her hand and held up a bottle of her favorite red wine. “Should help everyone relax. You guys can use it, especially.”

“He has to _drive_ home, Rouge,” hissed Shadow, a hand on his hip.

“Well, remind him of that when he tastes it. I see no harm in letting him try some.” She shrugged. “Alcohol content’s not _that_ high. It’ll be fine, I think.”

Cut off from voicing further misgivings by another doorbell chime, Shadow just shook his head as Rouge went to welcome more guests.

 

“…You see curve eight here, they’ve widened it a bit. It ought to be easier to steer through now, and the effect on finish time should be negligible if any.”

Everyone sat in the living room, rested on the sectional couch and the floor, as Mighty pointed out notable stretches of the zoomed-in Holoska course on his laptop. Next to Shadow on the couch, Sonic swallowed the chunk of Knuckles’ beef tri-tip he’d been chewing. “Wow,” he said, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “This course keeps looking bigger and bigger.”

“It’s huge,” confirmed Knuckles, who sipped from his wine glass, “but we’ve worked for this.”

“I still feel your work from yesterday in my legs,” grinned Sonic, only half-joking.

The strength coach smirked. “You’d better! This is Holoska we’re talkin’ about here.”

Gesturing mainly for Sonic’s benefit, Mighty zoomed the map outward and further explained, “Check out the vertical loops at four, seven, and twelve, and the corkscrew before the finish line. Take full advantage of the straightaway after curve six – see how long it is – because seven is bigger than four. You’ll need to build up your speed.” He smiled. “I think that’ll be fun for you, Sonic.”

Shadow smiled, too. The largest and liveliest of the Mobius Cup venues, Holoska was his favorite. It stood as both the final peak to conquer and the ultimate reward for slogging through the season in one piece. Competitors, spectators, and locals alike filled the whole resort with an air of celebration, the streets and pubs lit up deep into the night. Regardless of ranking, every skier wanted a shot at the venue.

Fortunately, the sense of crushing defeat over missing _his_ shot this year was absent now – he was disappointed but no longer gnashing his teeth. And watching Sonic study the map intensely, already at work committing the course to memory, was somehow mollifying. He admired the younger hedgehog’s focus on ending the season at his best.

If nothing else, Shadow could help Sonic prepare. “There’s also a dip coming out of loop seven,” he said, their shoulders brushing as he leaned toward Sonic while he pointed at the map. “It drops off faster than most, like a mini-cliff. Probably the closest to ski jumping we get, but the landing should be soft if you’re ready for it.”

“That does take some by surprise,” chuckled Mighty. “Good call, Shadow. And I’d try not to land too close to curve eight, otherwise it’ll be harder to right yourself going in.”

This was a lot of information for a rookie. At least Sonic’s face communicated such as he gazed at the screen in silence. With a sigh and a smile that was but half-stout, he turned to Shadow, then to Mighty. “This is gonna be something,” he stated, the only thing he was sure of in the moment.

“You’ll do fine, Sonic,” said Espio, holding up his chili dog as if toasting him. “Our races these next couple of weeks will keep us sharp.”

“Yes. You’ve got this,” Shadow told him quietly…really what he wanted was to put an arm around the young man and hold him tight, but that would have to wait. “Like Mighty said, it’s fun once you’re in it.”

He was rewarded with a look of sweet trust, before those alluring eyes closed and Sonic drew in a deep breath. “Right,” he agreed. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

“It will be done. I believe in you. You guys have been solid all season,” Mighty sent glances to all three skiers, “both on and off the snow. I am proud of everybody. Just stay the course to the end, and we’ll call it golden.”

“To our athletes! Cheers!” Ray beamed as lifted his wine glass.

“Cheers!” A round of glass clinks and everyone partook of their wine, including Sonic, who’d filled his glass halfway. His brow scrunched mildly as Shadow watched.

“Different?” asked the ebony hedgehog, bemused despite his earlier reservations.

“Different,” nodded Sonic with a sheepish half-smile. “My dad has about this much a few nights a week. Thought it’d taste like grape juice.”

Shadow couldn’t conceal his grin, and Vector didn’t bother to try. “Hah! Best juice _ever_ , then! Rouge really knows how to pick ‘em.”

“I’m no connoisseur, I just know what I like,” the bat demurred, though her rich tone suggested she was pleased.

They spent the next hour or so (keeping track of time stopped being a priority for Shadow) relaxing into colloquy, breaking off into smaller groups in so doing. Or a pair, in Shadow and Sonic’s case. “I can’t believe a whole season’s almost over,” sighed the blue hedgehog. “Hasn’t even been a year since high school ended, but it feels like worlds away now.”

His student life wasn’t a topic he raised much. “Do you miss it?” asked Shadow, genuinely curious as one who’d never set foot in any school system.

“It had its perks,” said Sonic, “but it kept me really busy, there was always something going on. Homework, exams, student government, the track team, friends.” He laughed. “And that was just for _school_.”

“Mr. In-Demand, eh?” teased Shadow.

Sonic waved a hand dismissively, albeit with a fond smile. “Lots of people to hang with, lots of things to try. And some of those people I’d known since kindergarten. Ski-raced with them as kids, even.”

“So _that’s_ your secret: competing from childhood.”

“Always in fun. I doubt any of us thought we’d make it as pro skiers.”

“Are you still in touch with them?”

“Here and there. They might want to meet you one day too, actually.”

Shadow allowed himself a rueful chuckle. “Not sure I’d be all they’ve cracked me up as.”

At that, Sonic turned slightly away from Shadow, smiling but not making eye contact. “I’d say you’re more,” he murmured. “Much more.”

Were Sonic’s cheeks rosy? It was hard to tell; he’d only tried a small amount of his wine, scarfing down two full plates of food and a bowl of Shadow’s stew before then. (A second bowl he’d filled waited for him on the coffee table.) This being his first-ever taste of wine, it could exert more influence on him.

…Were _Shadow’s_ cheeks rosy? His face felt a bit warmer than before. As did his heart, after what Sonic just said.

No matter what, he looked upon the younger hedgehog with great endearment as he watched him reach for his wine glass again. As Sonic sipped, Shadow leaned incrementally closer and said in sincerity, “I could say the same about you.”

Hunching his shoulders in a silent, bashful giggle, Sonic shook his head as he turned his body to face Shadow, still holding his glass. “You don’t know how surreal this all is. Up until last year I only followed you in the news, and I was awed by what I knew of you. Now I’m… _here_.” His gaze softened. “And I know even more. It’s incredible.”

His own muzzle had to be approaching the red of his quills by now, Shadow thought. Not simply because of Sonic’s compliments – the young man was vulnerable tonight in ways Shadow had never seen. _Personable_ he was in spades; vulnerable, not so much. He could only imagine Sonic’s response to what _he_ would express later.

Already, he was using every ounce of his willpower to resist reaching out to touch Sonic’s face-

“Hey, you guys look comfy here. More wine?” Words spoken in a silky alto signaled Rouge’s presence. Shadow turned his head to see the bat holding an uncorked wine bottle with a smile befitting a hostess, one with a canny twinkle in her eye as she observed the hedgehogs. Shadow raised his glass to accept it half-filled, while Sonic wanted just a few drops more, enjoying it but mindful of his journey home later. The three engaged in brief friendly chatter before Rouge wandered off to socialize with others, but Shadow knew she wanted to give them space, and he silently thanked her.

The hedgehogs, veritably in their own world on the couch, sipped their wine in between talk of near any and everything they wished…Shadow shared about his beloved motorcycle, built from scratch with his own hands and faithful through many years, as well as his favorite riding locations. Sonic talked about his guitars, both acoustic and electric, and growing up in a musical family with competitive siblings. Sonic offered to teach Shadow guitar, and in turn Shadow promised to teach Sonic to ride his bike.

He never let anyone touch his bike. Not even Rouge. Only once every other week did he uncover and ride it, and only ever alone.

But…with each curious head tilt, each warm giggle, each beautiful smile from Sonic…Shadow grew more certain that he no longer wished to ride alone. He wanted to show this hedgehog his world.

He could well _be_ his world.

However much time they passed didn’t seem more than seconds, all full of delight. Later, guests started to leave as the night’s first snow began to fall. Mighty and Ray deemed it prudent to hit the road before it grew heavy.

But at the front door, Mighty studied Sonic with a frown. “Are you sure you can drive home tonight?” he asked.

They had been so engrossed in conversation that Shadow missed the telltale signs: Sonic’s lethargy, glaring now that the elder hedgehog noticed it, sank the teen’s form deep into the couch cushions. Though his eyes remained bright, his head lolled to the side as he faced Shadow, his cheeks were unusually flushed…and his glass was empty.

Shadow felt a strong pang of guilt. This all transpired right under his nose; he didn’t even try to prevent it!

And the young man was choosing the worst time to exude positivity. “I should be fine,” he replied airily, waving a hand. “Must be food coma.”

“I don’t think that’s it, Sonic,” Shadow disagreed, an edge of concern creeping into his tone.

“How much wine did you have?” inquired the usually lighthearted Ray, now peering at Sonic with a scrutinizing gaze.

A frown touched the blue hedgehog’s unfocused features. “Less than a glass. Maybe two-thirds.”

It was true that amount wouldn’t affect everyone, certainly not most on the team…but this was Sonic’s first crack at alcohol, and he’d evidently had enough to get him tipsy despite the meat he ate.

Beset by guilt, Shadow made a decision. “I think you’d better stay here tonight,” he said with quiet firmness. “I have a guest room and a toothbrush.”

“You can skip morning training tomorrow if you need extra rest, come in the afternoon,” Mighty concurred.

But Sonic shook his head in mild distress. “I-I’m fine, you guys don’t need to go to the trouble…”

“They’re right, love. Just call your parents and let them know,” Rouge advised gently. From the crease of her brow, Shadow deduced she too felt quite responsible for this situation. Her end goal wasn’t getting Sonic wasted, he knew, but he had to bite his tongue to prevent himself retorting _Didn’t I tell you…?!_

Of course, in his youthful stubbornness, Sonic resisted. “But home isn’t that far…” he tried to rationalize.

Shadow’s eyes flashed as he straightened his backbone. The thought of the hedgehog he loved plunging headlong into an approaching nighttime snowstorm – he refused to abide it, and gripped Sonic’s shoulder as he looked his sluggish teammate unflinchingly in the eye. “That’s not the point,” he stated, tone low and intentionally forceful. “It’s dark, snow is coming down, I _can’t_ let you go out there like this. I want you safe.”

The whole house, it seemed, fell silent. It mattered not to the black hedgehog. All he saw was Sonic. All he cared about was Sonic blinking clarity back into his expression, bleary green eyes opening wide.

That niggling voice in his mind asked Shadow if he was overreacting. Maybe Sonic _was_ okay, at least well enough to drive home later. Maybe he was blowing things out of proportion.

But his protective side that wanted nothing more than to get through to Sonic shushed that voice of doubt. He meant every word he said, and he refused to try Sonic’s luck.

In the end, Sonic had just enough of himself together to trust Shadow once more. “Okay,” he nodded, his voice small.

The ebony hedgehog closed his eyes as he exhaled in relief, making a mental note to apologize later for speaking so sharply. Now that he was assured of Sonic’s safety, his next priority was restoring his health. “Good,” he replied, voice softened. “I’ll get you water.”

Espio, watching from the back of the crowd, stood closest to the kitchen entrance. “I got it,” he called as he turned in that direction.

He returned with a cool glass that Sonic obediently sipped from. Mighty offered to carry him to Shadow’s spare room, but he declined, still exceptionally comfortable on the couch. Respecting his choice, the armadillo and the squirrel departed with solicitous well-wishes. Espio, Vector, and Charmy followed not long after. “Take it easy, kid,” Vector said, his boisterous manner considerably downplayed.

While Knuckles kept Sonic company on the couch as the youth fumbled for his phone, Rouge lay a folded throw blanket on the coffee table across from Sonic. Stepping aside with Shadow, her shoulders hunched. “I was an idiot,” she confessed.

Shadow rolled his eyes. “You’re not around first-time drinkers much.”

“In my own defense, neither are you.” The bat sighed. “But you’re right. I overestimated his tolerance…I hope I didn’t jeopardize things for you.”

The hedgehog shook his head. What was done was done, and Sonic wasn’t beyond recovery. He’d better not be. “We’ll have to talk in the morning, then.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’ll work out better this way, after a full night’s sleep.”

“What a wake-up call that’ll be,” opined Rouge.

The bat and the echidna stayed another hour, watching over Sonic alongside Shadow. Though rather tired, the flush in Sonic’s muzzle was dying down little by little. When they were satisfied with his progress, Rouge and Knuckles bade Sonic and Shadow a good night, leaving so the inebriated hedgehog could rest.

As he sat down to carry on his vigil, Shadow saw white flecks pouring down outside a front window; they stood out against the dark of night. He looked at the smooth, shut-eyed face beside him. This was nowhere near his plan. But he was thankful he made the call. “Sonic?” he murmured. “Let’s get to your room, okay?”

“Hmm?” Green eyes opened calmly, and Sonic shook his head. “I like it here, actually.”

“You’d rather sleep here than on a bed?”

“It’s a nice couch.”

“Yeah, but a bed is better for the night.” Shadow couldn’t help a smile.

“Maybe,” the teen mumbled. “But you won’t be there.”

Shadow blinked. _What?_

As if he weren’t clear enough, Sonic continued, “You know why I wanted the wine?” He smiled dreamily. “When you hold it up under light, it’s like the color of your eyes…the prettiest eyes ever.”

Very few things in Shadow’s life left him speechless. This was one of those things, made all the more unreal by a soft giggle from Sonic.

It wasn’t a point of _complaint_ exactly, but…

Moreover, as his giggling trailed off, Sonic listed sideways and quite happily nestled his head on Shadow’s shoulder. The elder hedgehog sat stock still, eyes wide as dinner plates. Sonic would _never_ do this sober!

But…it felt _wonderful_. Better than he could’ve dreamed, and he lacked heart to resist it.

However, knowing Sonic wouldn’t want to awaken in this position, Shadow tried again. “How about we move you to your room? It’s ready for you.”

His eyes were closing again. “Don’t wanna move.”

Shadow glanced at the blanket Rouge left. “Okay, you don’t have to. I’ll cover you up.”

Perhaps Sonic misunderstood him: He smiled against Shadow’s shoulder and curled up, _snuggled_ up, against the black hedgehog, who was now trapped on the couch. “’Kay,” mumbled Sonic. “You’re a nice blanket.”

 _Chaos almighty…!_ Shadow was trying to do the right thing! How on Mobius would Sonic react when he came to?!

He took in a deep breath. If this _was_ what Sonic wanted…it’d seal off all distractions from the topic. He’d ignore any pesky residual fear that might cling to his heart, because there will be no turning back.

He made peace with this. “I’m more of a pillow, I think,” he gently commented.

“S’okay.” Sonic draped a lazy arm over Shadow’s middle.

“No, you need a blanket,” said Shadow, losing further will to move Sonic off. _Do you dare?_ he asked himself in a moment of weakness. He did – reaching an arm up, he curled it around Sonic’s shoulders.

Shadow’s baritone might as well have been a lullaby to the somnolent hedgehog, whose breathing became more even. Silence settled over the room, save for Sonic and the crackling fireplace, its flames dying to embers. Shadow’s arm around Sonic was warm, and the weight of the younger hedgehog comforting, healing even. Not in years had he held anyone this close, and never for this reason.

Moments passed. Sonic appeared fast asleep. Shadow was beginning to drowse off himself-

“Thank you, Shadow,” Sonic whispered. “…love you…”

That drove sleep’s imminence out of Shadow’s eyes.

It also set a thrill in his heart, and shut down for certain the thought of leading Sonic to the guest room. He would be the happiest hedgehog in existence if Sonic meant those words. Because…he couldn’t let him go anymore. In any way, shape, or form. His body may ache in the morning, Sonic could be fused to his side for eternity, and Shadow wouldn’t grouse.

He waited to see whether Sonic would say more. When he didn’t, Shadow reached forward for the blanket, grasping it with two fingers and his thumb. Quietly he unfolded the blanket one-handed. Then, very slowly and smoothly, he eased himself and Sonic down until they lay on the couch. With gentleness he draped the blanket over Sonic, shifting it till their feet were covered.

Sonic didn’t flinch once. In fact, he seemed to sink even further into Shadow’s body, his warmth engulfing the elder hedgehog. He was deep in slumber, with Shadow as his mattress. And…he was purring.

If a heaven existed, Shadow thought, this had to be it. He was unable to suppress an indulgent grin – goodness, Sonic felt amazing against him, with that soft, steady purr that he’d missed since the solstice party. Music to Shadow’s ears, even in his sleep!

All Shadow could do was close his eyes and wait for sleep to claim him. At the same time, he didn’t wish to take leave of this moment, the feel of this beautiful being in his arms. He relished it so very much.

But he told himself: the sooner he slept, the better prepared he would be to utter those important words.

_I love you too, Sonic._


	9. A Many-Splendored Thing

Daylight broke through Shadow’s eyelids.

He blinked a few times. Thankfully he lay facing south and did not catch the brunt of the sun’s rays shining through the east-facing window at the other end of the couch. The back of the couch also helped shield him and Sonic from it.

 _Sonic_ …

Coming to full alertness, Shadow glanced down at the younger hedgehog still asleep on his stomach, still purring, undisturbed even with one of his legs hanging off the couch.

Shadow didn’t know how long he himself waited to fall asleep – no chance to shut the lights before his teammate dozed off – but Sonic’s warm weight preoccupied him much of the time. He hadn’t slept this well in a very good while. Despite his back being sore from a night spent on an unusual surface, he sighed in the most contentment that had hit him in ages.

Weeks of feeling, pondering, and exercises in self-control had culminated here. Things still may not have come to this if Sonic didn’t meet him halfway. In a sense, Shadow was relieved to soon be free from emotional purgatory.

Even if the direction he would go next wasn’t wholly up to him.

He willed the fear away, obstinate though it had been. He must let Sonic choose this too. Sonic never asked for his heart, but it was for him to decide whether to receive it or…

_Argh._

He closed his eyes and lightly gritted his teeth. Who knew if his teammate had any idea what he was doing last night. It didn’t matter; Shadow had to trust that whatever Sonic chose _today_ wouldn’t outright destroy him. A “no” would likely hurt more than any wound he had ever sustained, but he would survive. That was all he could believe now.

Intent on halting his thoughts’ downward cycle, he concentrated on the form of the hedgehog in his arms…smiling when he detected a small wet spot on his chest. _Oh, Sonic_. This was one of his favorite shirts, but it wasn’t every day Shadow had it drooled on by the one he loved.

He felt almost honored by it. Just knowing this young man was the happiest honor of his life. He was excellent company long before Shadow identified his feelings. Outdoor running was integral to the team’s summer training, and he recalled pounding all manner of ground for what felt like hours a day, side by side with Sonic, neither of them getting winded. As much as he struggled with weight training early on, the kid was a natural runner. Shadow, the longtime “team speedster” (a title Espio and Knuckles granted), was quite impressed, and track-star Sonic was overjoyed to find in his hero a running partner who could keep up with him.

Sonic had been an amazing partner himself, all told. Maybe still could be…

As if he’d spoken the thought aloud, Sonic stirred and grunted softly. _Hopefully not nursing a hangover_ , mused Shadow.

Without realizing, Sonic hugged Shadow’s middle tightly – his ribcage felt that. The boy had indeed grown strong, Shadow noted with admiration.

Then, Sonic stilled as if frozen in wakefulness. Patiently the elder hedgehog waited as Sonic placed his palm against Shadow. Slowly he looked up, his slack-jawed expression the very picture of _WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT_.

Shadow could only smile. “Good morning, Sonic,” he greeted, his voice husky after a night’s rest.

He would almost be entertained by the comical-looking panic that electrified Sonic’s stare were _he_ not the reason for it.

A loud gasp filled the room as the blue hedgehog pushed himself up and scooted off of Shadow, all but rolling off the couch; the thump of his feet landing on deep red wood flooring echoed off the walls. One hand splayed out on his chest palm-down in his scramble to stand. “Oh no,” he rasped, his voice low with dread. “Oh, Shadow. I am so sorry. Oh _Chaos_ -”

“You don’t,” Shadow tried to break through the torrent of agitation as calmly as he could, “have to apologize.”

As Shadow propped himself onto his elbows, Sonic turned his back toward him, desperate to avoid eye contact. His voice trembled as he continued, “I-I didn’t mean to. Had to be the wine-”

Righting himself as his feet touched the floor, Shadow replied, “You did nothing wrong. It _was_ the wine.” Then his voice turned soft at the memory’s pleasantness. “You fell asleep on me, and I didn’t want to move you.”

Hearing that, Sonic groaned in misery and lowered his head into his hands. “We were here all _night_?! This can’t be happening…!”

Shadow bit his lip. Everything would change once he made it known – for Sonic, for him, even for the team. But, for Sonic’s sake as much as his own, he couldn’t keep silent any longer. Now was the time to act before Sonic bolted out of the house sans footwear. He looked desperate enough to try.

He eased off the couch and rose to his feet, stepping forward carefully as if he were about to walk off a ledge. He approached Sonic and, with a hand of comfort, reached forward and gently gripped his shoulder.

Almost automatically Sonic turned to face Shadow, inviting the black hedgehog’s touch but not making eye contact, head drooping in shame. Shadow’s heart ached for him. He looked so defeated; Sonic the Hedgehog never looked _defeated_. This wasn’t the young man’s fault at all, but he had yet to believe it.

In reassurance he pulled Sonic close to himself, cocooning him into his arms the way he’d been longing to, and they stood there silently as if time stilled. All Shadow wanted right then was for Sonic to feel his warm, sincere desire to be close to him.

When he was ready, Shadow said, “If anything, you’ve helped me gain clarity.” Pausing to squeeze the slender frame, he murmured his next words: “Though I have to admit, I was hoping to ask you out even last night.”

Sonic stiffened.

Shadow closed his eyes, but didn’t pull away or loosen his hold. He waited.

Finally, Sonic took a step back and, when he lifted his head, revealed green eyes wide with disbelief. He didn’t move far enough to break physical contact with Shadow. But from the look on Sonic’s face, Shadow’s hold may be tenuous yet. “This isn’t funny,” the teen whispered, shaking his head.

Shadow’s hands slid to the younger hedgehog’s elbows as he regarded him with seriousness. “Do I look like I’m laughing?” he asked, giving Sonic’s elbows a light squeeze.

Sonic blinked before his stare became questioning. “Then…this isn’t real?”

 _Chaos, Sonic..._ Shadow gave the poor child an almost pitying look before stepping forward to wrap him in another hug. “I couldn’t fake this if I wanted to,” he said, smiling into blue fur.

But a mystified Sonic pulled away _again_ , albeit staying in Shadow’s arms this time; he simply leaned backwards while placing his hands on his teammate’s sturdy shoulders. The question in his eyes was clear before he asked it. “But… _why_?”

Letting out a long sigh, Shadow fixed Sonic with an equally long gaze, now that he could admire him freely. “There are many reasons,” he answered, raising a hand to cup Sonic’s cheek. He didn’t blame Sonic in the least for wondering if this was all a dream. Looking at and touching him now was like an impossible dream come true. “Just…Chaos, you’ve been all kinds of good to me, and I…I can’t stop _thinking_ about you.”

There was no other way to sum up how much he’d changed his life. In fact, what _was_ most of his life before Sonic? Struggle and labor and more struggle, even as the overcoming of obstacles shaped him. It’d have been total hell without the goodness of Rouge, Knuckles, Mighty, Ray, Espio, and Marine, none of which he dismissed.

But in Sonic he found the one whose footfalls matched his own, in athletics and in life – he met a need he wasn’t aware he had. For this reason he could not stop a small, fond smile as his palm molded against Sonic’s face.

It didn’t hurt that Shadow found him as adorable as he was gorgeous; he could tell Sonic’s mind was racing a thousand miles a second behind that blank stare. Whether prompted by the warmth of the ebony hedgehog’s hand or by his unwavering gaze, Sonic’s own hand floated up to grasp Shadow’s. His bright eyes closed…and his face twisted as he was seized by a muted sob.

Shadow’s eyes went wide in alarm. What on Mobius did he do to make Sonic _cry_?

At least he didn’t release his hand; he appeared almost to be hiding his face in it. Shadow gently drew Sonic close to himself again, holding him as he shuddered tearfully, one hand coming to rest at the nape of the young man’s neck. Some part of him wanted to coo the tears away, but he stood unmoving and wordless, supporting Sonic for as long as he needed it. For his part, Sonic willingly wrapped his own arms around Shadow’s torso and leaned into the hug. It was, truth be told, the best feeling Shadow had known.

Before too long Sonic calmed down. “Sorry,” he sniffled, “I’m sorry, this is a lot to take in.”

“I know,” murmured Shadow, tightening his hug in solidarity.

“…I figured you’d never feel the same.”

Shadow blinked.

In his proper state of mind, he was not a hedgehog given to ungrounded presumptions. Whether he harbored any or not, and whether he was aware of them or not, Sonic would have had to spell out the confirmation of his own feelings before he could move forward. And he just did.

Sonic’s sobered-up answer was _yes_. He felt the same. He _felt the same_.

The understanding set upon Shadow’s heart like a clement rain, and his face began to light up in earnest as he drew back to behold Sonic’s teary-eyed visage.

He changed his mind: _This_ was the best feeling.

“I…I’ve crushed on you for months, maybe,” Sonic confessed, dabbing at his eyes with one hand. “Never _told_ anyone, but my sibs picked it up and teased me like nothing else.” He flashed a sheepish smile. “But I figured it was harmless keeping it to myself until it hit me how…how _real_ my feelings were.” After a bit of hesitation, he admitted, “That’s actually why I considered leaving. I thought I’d let myself go too far and there was no way you’d feel the same.”

“…Why not?” asked Shadow.

Sonic cocked his head, looking at the elder as if he’d sprouted a third eye. “I mean…you’re _Shadow_ the _Hedgehog_. You could be with _any_ one you want.” His gaze softened. “So many people love you, and you deserve it all.”

Well, Shadow’s post office box _did_ fill up on the regular with correspondence, some rather ardent, from both male and female fans. As affirming as that was, it was nowhere near the same league as getting to know an incredible person up close, a lesson he’d been learning the past year.

But he could have lost that person. Guilt washed into Shadow. Sonic was here despite having no clue what’s gone through his head for _weeks_ now, because the dark hedgehog failed to speak! It was _Sonic_ who made the first move on account of Rouge’s wine…

He could have easily, and rightfully, left. He chose instead to think it over. Shadow was staggered by how close he was to missing his chance.

That left him with one more question to ask. “What if I tell you I don’t want just _any_ one?” he said, his voice soft.

For a moment Sonic looked aside, biting his lip. “Well…honestly…” His gaze met Shadow’s again, but his face was that of a boy expecting punishment. “…I’d kinda wonder if you’re crazy.”

 _Crazy?!_ Shadow shot him a wry look as he let out a puff of air.

But secretly he was amused, since he knew Sonic meant no harm. A moment later Sonic confirmed that when his eyes softened, holding a quiet, tender steadiness – Shadow loved how his smile trembled. “…And once I’m over that…you couldn’t keep me away,” he answered in a whisper that somehow soared.

That was all it took for Shadow’s heart to feel as if it could burst with joy. He knew his face communicated as much…it had been a long, long time since he last smiled from his _soul_ like this. He reached a hand up to gently rub Sonic’s ear, and Sonic purred in response, tilting his head into the touch with eyes closed.

In great affection the black hedgehog unleashed his own purr, which grew louder as Sonic tightened his hold on him. With an arm around his beloved’s back, Shadow pulled the younger toward himself and just looked at him, into shining eyes and that quivering smile. He swore he could lose himself in the thrum of Sonic’s purr against his chest; he knew his hedgehog could feel his purr also, for it was as strong as it had ever been.

Sonic was staying. With him.

He was ready to die of happiness. Oh _Chaos_ , to be holding his beloved like this in his own home, with his beautiful blue angel curling his arms about him, on a morning so glorious and perfect-

Perfect time, that is, for Sonic’s stomach to gurgle.

Shuddering in his effort to hold in chuckles, Shadow realized it’d be good to _feed_ his darling. Especially with that blush on his face and those cute blue ears drooped.

“Breakfast?” he offered with a fond grin.

Sonic smiled ruefully. “Sure.”

 

They prepared breakfast together. Shadow didn’t want to serve leftovers, so Sonic lent a hand chopping vegetables and setting the table while the elder hedgehog beat eggs with seasonings. He decided to make his boyfriend ( _my! boyfriend!_ his giddy heart squealed) the best omelette he could. When all was done, and they sat at the table with their arms about each other, Sonic’s look of pure contentment upon tasting his omelette improved an already fantastic day for Shadow. “Chaos, _you_ could open your own restaurant,” gushed the blue hedgehog. “You, Knuckles, and Rouge would run the highest-rated one in town. Obliterate the competition.”

“Why, when I’d feed you for free?” said Shadow with affection, before a sip of coffee.

Sonic’s smile was as incredulous as it was delighted. “I can’t believe it…I have a personal chef. Who gets this lucky?” He nuzzled Shadow’s cheek, his tone denoting his question was not in jest.

“Well, every chef needs a mouth to feed,” answered a smiling Shadow, squeezing Sonic round his shoulders. “ _I’m_ lucky to have found the perfect one.”

Found the perfect one, in what became the perfect way. Rouge deserved an enormous amount of credit, plus an offer of homemade dinners for maybe a month. At the very least he owed her an apology for his annoyance last night.

Despite his absolute best of intentions, he also felt apologetic toward Sonic. “I hope I wasn’t too hard on you, trying to keep you off the road,” he said, subdued.

The young man leaned into him. “I _was_ a little scared that I made you mad,” he admitted after a pause, as his eyes met Shadow’s. “But…I also felt protected. It’s one reason I’ve liked you.” With a roguish smile and two eyebrow waggles, he added, “That and your voice. Read me an encyclopedia, baby.”

That nudged a warm laugh out of Shadow. “I do actually have a few volumes in the study,” he deadpanned, though he couldn’t smother his grin.

“Awesome. I could listen to you all day, talking or purring.” Sonic’s smile turned dreamy. “First time I heard you purr, I thought I’d die right there. It was so beautiful.”

Those words summoned flashbacks to Shadow’s view of Sonic playing guitar just a handful of evenings ago, on the very couch where they woke up this morning… “You mean...that time you sang?”

Sonic’s furious blush now was an exact replica of the one from that visit. “…Yes,” he admitted. “Your purr sounds like…” he couldn’t suppress a fond smile, “…like _heaven_ , Shadow. I never thought I’d hear anything so perfect.”

What praise from a musician! It gladdened Shadow’s heart…

…until, without warning, he remembered much further back.

A hospital bed. An old man in sad distress. A pale little girl, once his lively sister and best friend, slipping away moment by moment. Nightly, purr-filled vigils.

An old weight settled on his chest, and he shut his eyes. She wasn’t here to meet Sonic. He couldn’t tell her the happy news in person. Suddenly it felt like she died just yesterday.

_Maria…_

Seeing the sudden change in demeanor, Sonic sat upright and faced the black hedgehog with concern in his eyes. “Shadow?”

Wrestling with grief in front of his beau was the last thing he expected or wanted today. He bowed his head and hid his face in his free hand, throat constricted as he rode out the wave of emotion, Sonic rubbing his back as he too waited. When he felt calmer he lifted his head, breathed in deep, and said in a tight voice, “When Maria was very sick in the hospital, I used to lie down next to her and purr. She said it helped her feel better. But it didn’t save her. I used to hate myself for that…” He swallowed. “…You just called my purr _beautiful_.”

“Because it _is_ ,” whispered Sonic, cupping Shadow’s cheek. “It really is. And… _you_ didn’t kill Maria. You didn’t let her down.” Stroking Shadow’s cheek with his thumb, he gave a soft smile. “She’d be amazed by you right now, just like I am.”

Chaos, he was unworthy. But he knew by the way Sonic pressed his forehead to his own that the younger hedgehog wouldn’t brook any of that thinking. Hope seemed to spring eternal for Sonic, and for the first time in a great while, Shadow dared to desire it for himself.

As he held his beloved close and received his comfort, Shadow asked quietly, “Would you like to see her?”

 

The look on his face was priceless. He would treasure it as long as he lived.

Shadow had brought Sonic to his room, explaining he’d hung a family picture behind a curtain for those times he wished to revisit good memories. He pulled the curtain back to unveil not only the picture, but Sonic’s gloves right beneath it.

“Shadow,” murmured the young man after a moment’s stunned silence.

“I still don’t have the heart to use them,” Shadow smiled quietly. “They mean a lot to me.”

They had been riding on emotion together all morning, and in Sonic’s large, moist eyes, Shadow saw that he was atop another crest. They embraced, and Shadow loved how Sonic pressed into him from head to toe. “Chaos, Shadow, I…I’m a part of your _family_? Nobody’s ever thanked me this way for a _gift_ before,” said Sonic, his voice slightly choked.

“Couldn’t think of a better way,” said Shadow, breathing in Sonic’s scent as he ran fingers through his quills.

Once he regathered himself, Sonic inspected the picture, his smile growing by the second. “Is that her? And…is that _you_?!”

“Yes, and yes,” chuckled Shadow. “She was seven, I was four.”

“You were _adorable_.” This was the first time Shadow ever heard Sonic legitimately squeal. Looking at Maria, his expression softened. “And she had a sweet face...”

“She was a sweet person…you would’ve liked her, I think.”

“What were you guys’ favorite things to do together?”

Shadow’s brow furrowed in thought before a nostalgic smile emerged. “Chemistry was her best subject. That’s probably why she liked baking so much. Before she got really sick we spent a lot of time in the kitchen, her trying new recipes, me helping with ingredient prep and taste testing. Her cupcakes were like none other.”

“That does sound fun. Also explains your way with food,” grinned Sonic.

“Oh, if she were still here, I’d have so much to learn from her…”

They stayed in his room, Sonic rapt as Shadow reminisced, the two eventually settling on the edge of his bed. It had been many years since Shadow told of his past in such detail; the more he went on, the more he wondered whether he was babbling. But Sonic never made him feel he was being longwinded, engaging with the stories, laughing at especially funny ones (his favorite was the one where Maria put a frilly red dress and a fake pearl necklace on Shadow, of which no photographic evidence existed, thankfully), or just paying attention while hooking his blue foot around Shadow’s black-and-red one. Maybe he wasn’t kidding about listening all day!

But Shadow couldn’t test him on that, for Sonic’s phone buzzed with a text from Knuckles: _‘Mornin sunshine! See ya at training?_

“Oh man, already?” said Sonic, a mild whine in his tone.

“In two hours,” sighed Shadow, glancing at his watch.

They shuffled back to the dining table, Sonic declaring it “a crime to not finish such a tasty omelette.” They ate their breakfast and Sonic helped Shadow with dishes in a way that felt very pleasantly domestic. The blue hedgehog still had to drop off his mother’s cookware at home and pick up his training gear, so they worked quickly to load his car.

But when everything was done, and the two gazed at each other while holding hands in the cool of a late-winter morning, any need to hurry vanished. “Will you come to training?” asked Sonic tentatively.

“I’m not sure my being there would help you focus,” Shadow half-smiled, knowing he’d have trouble keeping his own eyes off of Sonic, at the very least. “Last two weeks before Holoska are critical, and I should be resting at home.”

Sonic pouted, but his expression nonetheless showed he agreed. “Then I’ll call you after dinner?”

“I’d love that,” replied Shadow, enjoying the fond look in Sonic’s eyes.

A moment of serene quiet hung between them until, with an adoring squeeze of his hands, Sonic said, “Thank you, Shadow. For everything.”

Shadow, very tender in his own grip on Sonic’s hands, wondered if his hedgehog had any idea how far he was willing to go for him. To Shadow, everything meant _every_ thing, and they were just getting started. “No problem,” he said, pulling Sonic in for a warm hug. “I love you.”

It was his first time speaking those words and, based on the strength of his return hug, Sonic’s first time hearing those words directed at him. “I love you too,” he affirmed, both ecstatic and wondrous.

Once upon a time Shadow only _dreamed_ of hearing that from Sonic.

Right when he thought his heart couldn’t get any fuller, Sonic drew back with a doting look, then leaned forward again. Shadow’s eyes opened wide as he felt soft lips brush his right cheek, lingering there for a couple of seconds before planting a feather-light kiss. When Sonic pulled back again, Shadow stared unguarded into vivid green eyes that brimmed with affection.

“I’ll see you later,” said the exquisite young man.

“See you,” he replied, his heart fluttering as he reached to plant his own kiss on Sonic’s cheek. He had a terrible time letting him go. But he did, and watched Sonic slide reluctantly into his driver’s seat and start the engine, lowering a tinted window to wave goodbye. He waved as well, with wistfulness, not stopping until the blue car drove out of sight.

As he placed his palm against his right cheek, savoring the ghost of that kiss, Shadow the Hedgehog did something he hadn’t known himself to do ever since he was a little boy.

He giggled.

Sonic, his wonderful hedgehog, loved him. All was right with his world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …Happy Valentine’s! :D
> 
> That said…this seems an okay spot for a hiatus. Hopefully a short one. I have two or three more chapters in mind, but schoolwork will be heavier this semester than last, so I don’t expect a lot of writing room. My goal was to finish this before summer, it being in a skiing AU, but that may not happen. Oh well.
> 
> Thanks for hanging in there for nine whole chapters….writing and interacting with you guys has been a lot of fun for me, and I hope to get back to it as soon as I can!


	10. Looking Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's nice to visit again...and take a hiatus from my hiatus to post a fluffy chapter. :)

Later that night, he leaned gently into his seated leg stretch.

The ache in his knee had diminished enough that he was able to enjoy his daily mid-morning walk with a lengthened stride, revelling in air that felt fresh as sunrise dew. He wished he didn’t have to wait for complete recovery to attempt some of Espio’s kicks, because he’d otherwise have splintered an entire forest’s worth of wood, such was his vigor.

Oh, the heights he longed to reach…never mind that it would happen in due time. His own impatience amused him. It was a welcome change, unnatural though it was, from the cocktail of uncertainty and self-pity he’d brewed in before last night.

But now? His mind was clear, bright. Shadow the Hedgehog, winner of nine overall Mobius Cup titles in sixteen seasons, the most dominant alpine skier of his generation, felt like twice - no, _thrice_ \- the man he was at his peak. He was all of himself and he could take on the world, injury be damned.

For now he just smiled at the pleasant tug on his left hamstring. It reminded him that he was on the rebound, and better things were yet to come.

His phone rang. He looked over his shoulder at the lit screen, saw the name displayed, and smiled.

Yes. Much, much better things.

He answered on speaker and greeted fondly, “Hey.”

“Hey,” replied his beau, captivating warm tenor filling his black-furred ears. “I’ve thought about you all day, just so you know.”

Grinning like a fool, Shadow leaned backwards and rested his palms on the floor. “Believe me, it’s mutual. So it’s been a _really_ good day.” His voice softened. “The best in my life so far.”

Sonic chuckled. “Mine too, for sure. The only thing missing was you at the dinner table. I haven’t told the folks about us yet, but when I do, you’ll be invited over one of these days.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Shadow smiled, mirroring the smile in Sonic’s voice.

“Me too! So’ll Manic and Sonia. Especially Sonia, since she and her boyfriend are moving to the city next month. New jobs lined up.”

“Exciting. I hope I make a good impression on your parents.” Rising to his feet, Shadow picked up the phone and wandered toward the living room.

“Heh,” grinned Sonic, in an uplifting way. “My dad followed alpine skiing when he was younger. He’s about Mighty’s age, I think. So no worries, he’s always impressed whenever he hears about you.”

“Well, I’m impressed by what he does for our local wellbeing,” said Shadow, knowing Sonic once mentioned his father was a cop.

“Yeah, he’s a good guy. Like you.”

The dark hedgehog felt the faintest blush on his muzzle. “Says a lot for you that you think so,” he commented affectionately.

“And I don’t think I’m wrong,” said Sonic with gentle confidence. “How was your dinner?”

“Rouge came over and wanted _details_ ,” answered Shadow with a roll of his eyes, “because hearing it from you at training just wasn’t enough.”

“Ha! She has a right to know, as the bringer of good wine.”

Shadow grinned, for he could clearly visualize Sonic’s wink. “That she does, and she’s being compensated with food. She also had me agree to a double date with her and Knuckles in the near future.”

“Oh, I’m so there.”

“Before that,” interjected Shadow with a knowing smile, “we’ve got to go on _our_ first date. Solo.”

“Ooh,” said Sonic, and Shadow relished his glee. “ _Definitely_ there.”

 

In such manner they chatted every night that week, meandering from topic to topic, peppering their speech with terms of endearment (Sonic bestowed a most pleasing variety upon Shadow, while Shadow found “hon” rolling off his tongue quite naturally). They kept it up even while Sonic travelled with the team to watch Espio in his second-to-last race before Holoska; their talks then were briefer, but no less fun, no less life-giving.

All the same, Shadow couldn’t deny missing Sonic’s physical presence. He always keenly awaited the phone chats that enriched his nights…but as the week drew to a close, he wondered if he could keep his own vow to maintain distance until after Holoska. The elder hedgehog had also asked Sonic to get what rest he could at home rather than come to his place after training, doing his best to mitigate Sonic’s initial sadness.

It seemed, however, that he sorely overestimated the ability of physical therapy, daily walks, and his usual activities to occupy him until phone time. Though he still completed his tasks, by force of habit if nothing else, he was slowed by his mind wandering often to Sonic’s voice, Sonic’s face, Sonic’s touch – all so radiant to him they cast everything else in a dull light.

He missed him very much.

 

That weekend he honored Rouge’s request for chocolate-covered strawberries.

She had brought him the ingredients the previous night, saving him the trouble of a grocery run. “I’ve got a big craving,” she had said, “and you can name anything you want for dinner tomorrow if you’d just dip all of these strawberries for me.”

“ _All_ of them?” Shadow gaped at the bulk-sized plastic container in her hands.

“Please?” the bat implored with a sheepish smile.

She was rarely ever _sheepish_ , which piqued his curiosity. He knew her too well for this to be a simple request. But per their deal, he agreed without complaint. At least the task wasn’t difficult; with the ingredients she provided, he was able to make nearly double the usual amount of chocolate, with enough left for another half batch if he so chose. The only real cost was time, since the strawberries were many. “Worst craving she’s ever had,” he muttered as he worked.

But he was done in time, sliding the last strawberry-laden tray into the refrigerator right as the doorbell rang. He removed his chocolate-stained apron and walked soundlessly to the door.

Looking through the peephole, he gasped. He wasn’t prepared for this.

There stood _two_ Mobians. One of them sported a coat of beautiful royal blue fur…

How he managed to wrench the door open he couldn’t say, stupefied as he was. But he did.

Rouge grinned in triumph before him. Two steps behind her was none other than Sonic, gripping a very full take-out bag in each hand, eyes gleaming in the dusk, smiling like he hadn’t seen Shadow in years.

How many times this week had Shadow felt the same about him? Despite feeling severely underdressed, he could not hide his corresponding smile.

“Long time no see!” greeted a chipper Rouge. “You’ll be well fed tonight. Sonic,” she gestured toward the blue hedgehog, “is a strapping young man, so he was great help getting it over here.” Leaning closer with amusement, she added, “You never said he couldn’t come on a _non_ -training day.”

Sonic let out a light chuckle, and Shadow’s heart grew three sizes. Rouge had done it again!

“Well,” he grinned, stepping aside to invite his guests in, “then he’d better get a huge share of dinner.”

“Of course he will! What kind of boss do you take me for?” In two smooth motions she grabbed the bags from Sonic. “I’ve got this now, thanks love,” she said with a breezy smile as she sauntered into the kitchen.

That left the hedgehogs alone, and Shadow’s grin turned fond when he looked to Sonic – here in the flesh, and _what_ a sight for sore eyes, standing before him with that smile…

He shut the door and crossed the gap between them. Sonic closed the gap by virtually flying into his arms. Right then it sank in what a desert the past week had been, and Shadow no longer cared how he dragged himself through that parched land when here, at last, was his sparkling oasis. Chaos, it felt good to hold him tight, _soak_ in his warmth again.

“Shadow,” breathed Sonic, overcome with joy, “I almost _died_ keeping my mouth shut. I knew it’d be worth it, but it was hard not spilling it over the phone.”

“Rouge swore you to secrecy,” stated Shadow, deep voice threaded with a low-key jubilation. His best friend could be persuasive that way, and tonight he was thankful it was in his favor. He looked lovingly into Sonic’s eyes before giving the young man a luxuriant kiss on one cheek. “I’ve _missed_ you.”

“I’ve missed _you_ ,” replied Sonic, kissing Shadow’s cheek, all but blissing the elder hedgehog out of his mind.

They talked quietly in their embrace as sounds of clinking plates and utensils issued from the dining area, Shadow prizing the strength of Sonic’s heartbeat against his own – no phone call could top this. When Rouge announced the table was set, they walked arm in arm there as the bat scooped food onto plates. The three had a wonderful time conversing over their meal; Rouge regaled Sonic with stories of her adventures with Shadow, especially during his teen years, while the black hedgehog groaned in wry embarrassment. And the hedgehogs were inseparable the entire night, leaning on each other, holding hands, Shadow resting an arm over the back of Sonic’s chair every so often.

“…So the biggest reason I don’t cook? I accidentally started a kitchen fire at our place once. We’d just moved in, and thankfully the damage wasn’t too bad, we were barely making rent as it was.” Breaking for a sip of tea, Rouge continued, “But Shadow was frantic because he’d left these accessories called Chaos Emeralds lying around there, they were a really big piercing accent fad-”

“Think I’ve heard of them,” nodded Sonic, side-eyeing Shadow with a mirthful curiosity (probably trying to imagine him with piercings, Shadow figured).

“-right, so he was missing one and looking all around the stove thinking I’d _fried_ it, and he yelled, ‘ _Where’s that damn fourth Chaos Emerald?!_ ’ I said, ‘Don’t ask me! It could’ve landed in the salad for all I know!’ To this day we’ve never confirmed whether one of us ate it.”

By now Sonic was giggling against Shadow’s shoulder in virtual delirium, and Shadow was shaking his head in straight-faced dismay. He did enjoy the story now, truth be told, and especially liked that it reduced his boyfriend to bubbly laughter…but he _really_ preferred the bat left his awkward teenage days far behind them. It wasn’t fair – he only ever knew Rouge as an adult, thereby depriving him of equally awkward stories about her!

“That is why I mostly leave kitchen duty to Shadow. And he’s awesome at it, as you know by now,” grinned Rouge.

“I sure do,” agreed Sonic, squeezing Shadow’s hand as he looked at him, and Shadow returned the look with pleasure.

“You _have_ to try his desserts too. Say, hon, don’t you have some chocolate strawberries lying around…?”

He arched a brow as his latent suspicion was confirmed: this was part of Rouge’s plot. She was getting serious mileage out of his relationship! “I do, actually,” he answered, squeezing Sonic’s hand before rising to walk to the refrigerator and pulling out the most chilled tray of chocolate strawberries. Sonic’s amazement at the presentation alone was very satisfying to him.

“What can you _not_ do?” asked the blue hedgehog in childlike awe.

“In the creative realm, nothing. Shadow’s an artistic soul,” Rouge replied with an almost maternal pride.

“Says the one who assigned me kitchen duty,” Shadow pointed out, grinning dryly as he held out the tray for Sonic.

Sonic picked one and took a careful bite, and his eyes popped wide open as he chewed until they closed in euphoria…at that point Shadow saw fit to set the tray down before he dropped it, enchanted as he was by his beau’s expression. “…Mmmmm. Oh Shad, this is so _good_ ,” he waxed rhapsodically.

Shooting a look of meaningful acknowledgement to Rouge – _Well played_ , he thought – the dark hedgehog took his seat beside Sonic, just watching him indulge in his handiwork. He couldn’t explain why it was different this time. After all, he’d observed him trying other food he’d made. But this sight made his heart feel so ascendant, he wanted to feed Sonic another strawberry just to see more of it.

However, Sonic beat him to it when he finished. Reaching toward the tray again, he said, “If you haven’t had one yet, you really should.” He held an ample-sized strawberry up to Shadow’s mouth with smiling eyes. “C’mon, babe. You deserve it.”

“If you insist,” Shadow sighed in mock-resignation, when in fact the pet name cheered him. And while the strawberry was the perfect sweetness, Sonic relaxing into his side as he fed him seemed to enhance its flavor even more.

Rouge knew it, too. With a gratified smile she rose to pick up dishes for washing, while his boyfriend curled up in his chair, and Shadow caressed his waist.

_…I should make dessert more often._

 

Sonic’s second-to-last race fell in the middle of the following week.

It took place on another continent, so Shadow stayed up to watch the live broadcast. Sonic had sounded tired but otherwise well the night before, fairly upbeat after a solid training run, though wishing he could “do touristy things” with Shadow there. They had agreed to keep their relationship private for the time being, so only their teammates, close friends, and family would know, but the blue hedgehog’s yearning made him smile. He imagined being dragged by the hand to various stores and snack shops…he himself wouldn’t be opposed to daytime hikes and picnics, museum visits, maybe holding Sonic at outdoor concerts under a starry sky…

He alternated between reading a book and watching footage of skiers rushing down the course, some with success, some without. One day he would rejoin his teammates in the training room and at the races. Having a full couple on the team…who knew what would come with that. He hoped their relationship wouldn’t damage the team’s dynamic or theirs. Rouge dating Knuckles, her longest-term and most serious boyfriend, did create new boundaries between her and Shadow such that he missed their old familial camaraderie for some time. And he knew himself, his own competitive streak, his stubborn meticulousness. Could he both love Sonic and help sharpen him as an athlete in the long run?

Why…he supposed he _was_ playing the long game.

Laid up as Shadow was during his recuperation, Sonic would tell him to keep his head up and live one day at a time (repeating his mother’s words), and it wasn’t mindless pep talk; the young man took pains to meet him more than halfway. Maybe one day at a time was all that mattered when it came to Sonic. Neither of them could peer into the future and spy how Sonic would grow as a person, how Shadow might change.

But that didn’t mean the ebony hedgehog couldn’t dream of a future with his beloved. A good one, even. His hat was in the ring so long as Sonic’s was.

Speaking of Sonic, there he was at the start house.

He donned his usual ski suit with the same helmet and goggles, a black-handled neon green pole in each gloved hand. His posture, however, was everything _but_ usual.

The commentators went abuzz over the rookie’s stats and career prospects, but Shadow paid them no mind as he sat up straighter. He knew Sonic’s gaze was sharp beneath those goggles – he radiated sharpness, and not just because of his quills. His stance was tall, proud, yet just fluid enough to give away his adventurous spirit. And when he smiled, Shadow saw the future peaks his royal blue beauty would conquer.

By Chaos, that swagger. He wanted to reach through the screen and kiss him right then and there.

“Come on, Sonic,” he said aloud, his heartbeat quickened. “You got this.”

 

He took initiative to call that weekend.

The line was answered in half a ring. After a light shuffling noise Sonic greeted, “Hey, boo.”

His voice sounded like the most sublime dream, and Shadow smiled widely. “Hey, beautiful.”

A warm, breathy chuckle was Sonic’s response. Already Shadow was drawn to his invisible smile. “Resting well?” asked his hedgehog, tone tender.

“A lot better without that knee brace.”

“Thank Chaos.”

“Still have to prop it on pillows during the night. But I’ll get to hit the stationary bikes with you guys come summer.”

“ _Awesome_.”

“Yeah.”

“When will you be able to roundhouse? I’ve been wanting to see it again.”

“You might out-roundhouse _me_ by the time I can,” grinned Shadow. “Espio would teach anyone, and you’ve been there all season, so…”

“Well, _any_ one means you too, whenever you’re ready. I doubt I can knock you out just like that.”

Pausing for effect, and inwardly proud of his improved flirting skill, Shadow jested, “Are you so _sure_?”

He was handsomely rewarded with Sonic’s laughter. “I can only aspire to _your_ levels of fly, sugar.”

“Never underestimate yourself, hon. You are a born knock-out,” replied Shadow, fond and no longer joking.

“Aww.” Sonic was genuinely touched; Shadow loved his boyish giggle. “Roundhouse or no, having you back’ll be way past cool.”

“It’ll be great to be back, all three of us.”

“With another Mobius Cup in the team trophy case, woohoo!”

“Mmm. That was the happiest I’d seen Espio in a very long time.”

It was true. In the midweek race Shadow watched, Sonic finished second but was bumped down two places. Espio was one of the skiers who brought that about. He won the race, raising his point total well past the threshold for the overall Mobius Cup title. The normally composed chameleon had dropped to the snow upon crossing the finish line, beaming in rapturous relief as fans thundered their support from the stands. Wholeheartedly thrilled for his teammate, Sonic had surged into the finish corral and rewarded him with a celebratory dogpile to Espio’s great amusement. The commentators had a field day. As a teammate and a viewer, Shadow classed that as one of his favorite moments ever.

“Holoska should be a lot of fun this year,” he continued lightly.

“Yeah! We’re gonna party hard…but you should be there too,” sighed Sonic. “Just won’t be right without you.”

“Hmm,” said Shadow, drawing out his syllables just slightly. “I should still be able to get around with you guys. I might be a bit slow…”

“Wait…” He could _hear_ Sonic’s puzzled frown along with the hopeful upturn in his voice. “…You’re coming?”

“Talked to Mighty around the time my brace came off. Accommodations are enough for one more person, and there’s room on the bus.” Shadow added quietly, “I’m packing right now.”

The gasp of delighted surprise was all he wanted to hear. “Then Holoska will blow my _mind_ , Shadow,” Sonic near squealed.

“Mine, too. And I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” murmured Shadow, already looking forward to travelling with his team and, most of all, his hedgehog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Will need another fic break now to finish out the semester – even during spring break week we have homework due. -_-; But it still frees up a little time to write, which I fully intend to do. So I hope to have the next chapter ready by summer…and I hope it’ll hold together, because it’s back to a ski venue for Shadow & gang. Keeping my fingers crossed.


	11. Preparation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see!
> 
> I was remiss to not mention last chapter’s strawberry scene was partially inspired by thekyuubivixen’s wonderful Starlit Strawberries. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18309479
> 
> Anyway...I’ve been trying to get my head back into this world but it’s been such a while, I’m afraid of disappointing people with this chapter. Honestly happy I could cough up another, though. :)

“Hey…not to bum off you or anything but…how did you _do_ that?”

Sonic cocked his head, confused and amused at once. Shadow merely looked on in interest. This one had never casually approached their team before, despite having shared podium space with a couple of them…

Today, Jet the Hawk was gutsy enough to make a non-sequitur introduction to Sonic.

The young hedgehog rolled with it like the pro he was becoming. “Just had to stay focused and balanced, I guess. Like everyone else,” he smiled, savoring a swig of hot cocoa.

“Yeah, but I mean the _way_ you did it,” Jet nearly sputtered. “If I’d gone any faster at the hairpin I’d have flipped. But you blew through faster than _that_!”

“Ohh, the hairpin.” Now Sonic understood. “You know that threw me too? It didn’t _look_ so sharp on the map.”

“Well, you skied like you’ve done it for years.”

“Nah…but I know people who have.”

When he turned to Shadow next to him, his soft smile almost made the champion forget there were others around.

In an instant Shadow’s memory returned to frequent mentoring on subjects such as equilibrium, fore/aft movements, edge angles, and how, ultimately, technique was never static. Every situation a skier faced would vary from one day, one course, one weather pattern to the next.

He never thought weather would nick _him_ so badly, but well, he was living proof of his lesson now. Coming through to the other side of it, he was proud of his resilience – and prouder still that Sonic, building his own resilience, processed his mentoring so well. The young man was a beautiful rising star…

Shoulder rubbing against Sonic’s, he crossed his arms with a relaxed smile. “Repetition. That’s it,” he summarized for Jet. “Strengthen every muscle you have. Work out with weights, reflexes, on skis, off skis. Get yourself ready for anything.”

“No shortcuts, pretty much.” Espio, sat opposite Shadow and nursing a mug of tea, nodded in agreement. “I needed more than a handful of seasons to get used to the hairpin.”

Wave lightly swatted her teammate’s shoulder with one hand. “That’s exactly what _I’ve_ been saying, Jet,” said the long-suffering swallow. “We’re built lighter, no way around that, but we can still figure out how to work with what we have. If we need more time to get stronger, so be it.”

Jet’s feathers wilted a bit anyway. Even thick-skinned Shadow could not fault him; this season was the hawk’s first turn at Holoska. He finally made the cut after four consecutive seasons.

To be fair, he was too cocky before. Not that Shadow himself wasn’t cocky. It was just that his own ego drove him to back up his vows with actions more than with words. If Jet would do more and complain less, he thought, he’d actually get somewhere.

But he watched Sonic and remembered leniency wasn’t so bad. As happy as Sonic was with himself, he also treated Jet with sympathy. “I mean, my run wasn’t perfect either,” said the blue rookie. “I had no clue what I was getting into, even when I thought maybe I did. We all have kinks to iron out. I bet you’ll do awesome tomorrow.” He elbowed the hawk with a wink. “Race you to the podium?”

Jet grinned. “Man, you’re on.”

It wasn’t often he truly _enjoyed_ other teams’ visits. Acknowledged them, yes, in the spirit of sportsmanship, but rarely anything more. Yet as Sonic, Jet, and Wave gabbed on, he found himself nodding along, even smiling at times. Some kind of hopeful energy was bound up in their collective youthfulness; Shadow could tell Sonic and Jet would be great competitors in the years ahead.

He was actually a mite disappointed when Storm the Albatross, strength coach for the Babylon Rogues (as Jet and the others had named themselves), bobbed over to tell them their lunch was ready.

The hubbub of the atmosphere regained prominence once the Rogues left. Having completed their training runs, they were resting over hot drinks in the busy athletes’ lounge down the hall from the locker room, changed into their usual exercise attire. Their table was next to a tall potted plant and just off to the side of a sunbeam that shone through a clear, square skylight. All around them skiers, coaches, assistants, and venue staff milled to and fro, or clustered in groups at their own tables.

It was a chance to catch their breath. Later in the day they planned a jog around the city outskirts and a fairly light workout session – minus their usual weight equipment, and with no desire to sustain any pre-final injuries. Celebration would come the following night, regardless of Sonic and Espio’s placements.

Sonic turned to the elder hedgehog. “How’s your knee?”

He half-smiled; his younger teammate’s body language – hand on the outside of his leg next to Shadow’s, a casual lean in his direction – revealed a smidgen of temptation to place his palm on said knee. He felt warmer inside. “Not too bad. Would love to test it on a bike.”

“Unfortunately not a motorized one,” said Espio.

“Very unfortunately,” Shadow agreed. “But I’ll take what I can get.”

It was decided that he would join the crew via bicycle rental. Holoska’s bicycles were few, as much of its terrain did not accommodate them. But there were certain trails that included stretches of bicycle-friendly concrete paths. Shadow felt he could join the team at a more leisurely pace, and besides, it had been ages since he’d last gone anyplace on two wheels.

It also beat holing up in the hotel all afternoon. Without Sonic, no less.

“Powered through your training run. Good for you, kid.”

By reflex his ears flicked. He knew that greasy voice anywhere.

A green hedgehog, with two bold diagonal zigzags embroidered across the front of his ski suit, sauntered up to them. Shadow watched Scourge move almost lone wolf-like toward the group, though his eyes were only on Sonic. He kept his mouth shut and his own eyes on the visitor.

To his credit – _he can handle this_ , Shadow reminded himself – Sonic just shrugged and smiled, though with a not-so-light heart this time. “Thanks,” he said, putting down his mug. “It wasn’t easy, we prepped tons but the actual course was way beyond what I thought. It’s awesome, though.”

“Yeah, it is. Only the best at the end of each season make it to Holoska,” Scourge nodded, planting the back end of his skis on the floor.

 _What’ve you got now_ , thought Shadow, mentally rolling his eyes.

Sure enough, he continued in a falsely wise tone, “But some have wiped out _bad_.”

Sonic’s brow creased. “Really?” he couldn’t help asking.

“Oh yeah. A few years back, Natter the Parakeet’s ski came loose and he spun out at the hairpin. Broke his back.” Scourge tsk’d, shaking his head. “Poor Nat couldn’t walk again.”

“That’s awful.” It wasn’t just sympathy on Sonic’s face – there was also a dash of concern. Of doubt. Shadow frowned.

“Right,” Scourge carried on, seemingly oblivious. “Couple years before that, Sunshine the Iguana almost got to the finish line…there was just the corkscrew left. She fell off the last loop and her landing knocked her right out. Wasn’t pretty.”

“…Oh,” said Sonic, crossing his arms. He wasn’t afraid at all, though Shadow could _see_ Scourge’s words tumbling in his head. But he calmly held his own. “I hope that doesn’t happen to anybody tomorrow.”

“It won’t,” Shadow stated. He hated what Scourge was doing, the negativity he was bringing to what should be a grand adventure.

Espio leaned in Sonic’s direction and nodded. “We finished our training runs and have a feel for the course,” the chameleon reminded him. “We worked hard for this.”

“All I’m saying is accidents happen, even at Holoska-“

“Accidents happen _anywhere_ ,” Shadow corrected, “but we still race. Do we not?”

“You sayin’ I’m about to quit?” Scourge’s tone gained a defensive edge.

“No, I’m not.” _Leave it to you to make it about you._ “But there are better things to talk about if we want to focus on _finishing_.”

“Tch. I don’t see where it hurts to know the risks.”

“If we don’t know the risks at this point, we’re not fit to be here,” said Shadow, feeling less friendly by the second. Gesturing a hand at his teammates, dark gaze boring into the naysayer, he continued, “We’re not afraid. And we don’t need to make anyone else afraid.”

Typically, he wasn’t one to claim any moral high ground. Skiing was an individual sport, and he always believed each athlete reaped what they sowed. So in his mind, everyone should be left largely to their own devices. All he cared about was whatever he needed to do.

That extended to his teammates as well – for the intensive work they put in, they should reap nothing but good, strong results. Sonic and Espio _earned_ their Holoska spots. Scourge had damn well better believe they’ll cross the finish line on their feet.

He didn’t want to believe right then, however. “Really?” he scoffed. “You’re gonna shield them from alpine ski history? It’s on the record. Sonic’s no baby.” In mimicry of Shadow’s rhetorical question, he added, “Is he not?”

“Uh, you can ask me. I’m right here.”

All heads turned toward Sonic, posture straightened and brow cocked at Scourge. “I personally know people who’ve _lived_ alpine ski history,” he said coolly, “and I’m almost at the end of my rookie season. So no, I’m no baby.”

“He can do this,” affirmed Shadow, quite business-like. “My team are professionals. They do anything they set their minds on.”

“Ask us how we know,” said Espio, gesturing between himself and Shadow. “We don’t scare easy, Scourge.”

The triumphant look on Sonic’s face all but declared, _Mic drop_. Though it was clear Scourge had no further rebuttal, Shadow waited.

After a long, stony silence, Scourge grunted, “Yeah.” He feigned his best nonchalance whilst holding up both hands in front of himself. “Great. Good luck tomorrow.” With a huff of annoyance, he picked up his skis and left.

 _Good riddance_ , Shadow wanted to reply. He saw the sentiment echoed on Espio’s face as well. Chaos, if those zigzags didn’t represent claw marks on chalkboard!

 _He could’ve handled it_ , his inner voice admonished him.

He knew that already. Sonic was strong and smart. If Scourge barely blipped on Shadow’s radar – because who on Mobius _was_ that punk to Shadow, anyway? – then the younger hedgehog shouldn’t have trouble with him either.

It was just…Scourge all but wished broken bones and career-ending injuries on a newcomer. Who happened to be his Sonic. And the guy would not have shut up without interference. It was never about informing Sonic of “risks.”

He couldn’t tolerate that for longer than he did. But, he supposed while heaving a sigh, he had to try to not let this incident work his nerves.

Meanwhile, Sonic just blinked and shook his head. “Huh,” he said.

“Ignore him,” said Shadow, forcing his voice to mellow out around a sip of coffee.

“He’s not the most uplifting guy around here,” remarked a deadpan Espio.

“Heh.” Sonic gave a wry smile. “That’s one way to put it.”

“That’s his thing, ruffling people.” Shadow shook his head, the corners of his mouth turned down. “Playing with minds. He gets a rise out of it…probably thinks he can improve his rank that way.” He aimed a meaningful look at Sonic. “It’s sick, so don’t buy any of it.”

Sonic’s brows rose before his expression hardened into one of righteous disgust. The elder hedgehog found it oddly pleasing. “That’s just _wrong_ ,” said the young man, shaking his head.

“That’s just…Scourge,” shrugged Espio. “He’s been this way as long as we’ve known him. ‘S a pity.”

“And he has nothing on you, Sonic. Nothing. Not one title to his name.” Though he voiced what should’ve been a confidence-boosting thought, it didn’t scrub the irritation from Shadow’s mind.

But Sonic just smiled. “I mean…okay, his weapon is psychological intimidation. That doesn’t add up to _performance_ intimidation.” He glanced meaningfully between Shadow and Espio. “Which this team has in spades.”

Now it was Espio’s turn to grin. “Way to talk us up, Sonic. And you’re gonna be just fine.”

“I believe it! Somebody sayin’ otherwise?”

They looked up to see Knuckles approaching with a tray containing a family-style meat plate and a bowl of salad. Mighty accompanied him bearing a tray of full water cups and utensils.

Espio shrugged. “Just a certain green hedgehog,” he said as Knuckles sat down beside him.

“Gotcha.” Knuckles set the tray down in the group’s midst. “With nothing better to do, I take it.”

“ _We_ have _plenty_ to do,” said Mighty, passing out utensils and napkins. “And the perfect weather to get it done in.”

“Oh my god, the _sun_ ,” raved Sonic, accepting a food portion with a nod of thanks. “It feels good and makes the whole place look good.” He glanced at Shadow. “Heck, I kinda wish _I_ could go bike riding now.”

 _Hm. Date idea._ “Maybe after tomorrow,” said Shadow. With an exceedingly rare wink, he added, “If things go well today, I could join you.”

His stomach was hungry, but the delight on Sonic’s face filled his heart that entire day.

 

His eyes opened before the morning alarm sounded.

With Sonic slumbering atop him, that was perfectly fine.

A blanket and duvet covered them both. Shadow, ever the back sleeper, lay comfortably with his left knee propped on a large pillow, another pillow supporting his right shoulder. His boyfriend’s face was nestled into his pajama-clad chest, left arm draped over his torso, steady purr rumbling in concert with his own. The rest of the young man lay diagonal across the bed; Shadow smiled at how carefully Sonic arranged himself around his injured parts, even in sleep. Not to mention what a fantastic natural heater he was…

The blue hedgehog’s presence alone gladdened him so much, he almost never wanted to rise again. It was even nicer than the long private bus ride to their hotel – Sonic chatted engagingly with everyone, introduced a card game, played some of his favorite songs on speaker, and eventually napped against Shadow’s shoulder, their hands linked beneath the elder hedgehog’s fleece blanket they shared.

Best Holoska bus ride hands down, yet waking up with him here two nights in a row beat it by miles. It made Shadow feel at home away from home.

He smiled, thoroughly satisfied.

But they had a big day ahead. _The_ big day. Mentally reviewing Sonic’s training run footage, Shadow noted how he’d just about mastered his tuck, and how that helped him tackle loops and corkscrews with greater ease than ever. His core strength would only increase going forward if Sonic stuck to his weight and stability training. He seemed to enjoy it more with each session. The only skills the veteran thought he could improve were sticking closer to fall lines and tightening his turns, though he wobbled much less than before.

Yesterday’s jog helped to bolster hope in everyone. The sky was like a gorgeous blue crystal; the sun warmed them through the famously cool air; their path granted views of monumental white glaciers, some right up close; and Shadow’s knee and shoulder uttered not one protest as he coasted the smooth concrete on his bicycle.

He had grinned every time he caught Sonic looking backwards to check on him, which also spurred him on. By Chaos, how starved his body was for aerobic exercise! He could hit the venue slopes himself today if he’d brought his gear and if anyone would allow it. His exasperation over Scourge’s fear-mongering tactics had vanished before dinnertime.

And Sonic himself appeared no worse off for it. Though he slowed down his jogging pace for Shadow’s sake, he had a wonderful time. He, Espio, and Knuckles were voracious with the team’s simple take-out dinner. Shadow looked forward to buying groceries and cooking in their suite after the final run, and wonderful times with Sonic alone…

_Bee-beep. Bee-beep. Bee-beep. Bee-beep._

In his sleep Sonic groaned, but didn’t move.

“Hon,” whispered Shadow, baritone breaking through the drone of the alarm, “good morning.”

“Nnngh?” The younger hedgehog stirred, tickling Shadow’s chest a bit as he turned his head. Not that he’d admit to being any kind of ticklish. In this moment, he just smiled.

“Baby, it’s your day to run,” Shadow went on gently, squeezing Sonic’s arm for effect.

“Mmmn.” Gradually Sonic came to, giving Shadow a squeeze of his own – in the black hedgehog’s side. His mild jump prompted a sleepy giggle.

“Oi, you,” grinned Shadow.

“’Morning, cutie,” drawled Sonic, still giggling.

Gracious, now Shadow _really_ didn’t want to get out of bed. But he willed himself to refocus. “Let’s get some breakfast in you, yeah?” he said tenderly.

“’Kay,” said Sonic. But instead of getting off the bed, he groggily hoisted himself onto an elbow and shifted his body upwards, so that his face aligned with Shadow’s. Resting his head next to Shadow’s on the pillow, he lay an arm around his neck and smiled. “Sleep well?”

Rakish quills, half-lidded eyes…how could anyone wake up so _good_ -looking? Sonic’s face smushed into his pillow was absolutely adorable to him. “Very,” said Shadow, touching his forehead to Sonic’s. “Just need to wrap my knee for today. And you need energy. You’re gonna kill it out there.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

Hugging him a bit tighter for a moment, Sonic fell quiet. Then, thoughtfully, he said, “Not sure why this is on my mind, but…as weird as Scourge was yesterday, it’s kinda sad how hungry he was for attention. Like, he walked right up to me while _you_ guys were there. He had to know you and Espio wouldn’t fall for it.”

Shadow frowned, not having considered that angle before, as he also held Sonic tighter. “I guess,” he allowed. “He has a reputation, though. Known for smack talk.”

“Which makes it worse for him. He’s not getting _good_ attention. Sooner or later, he won’t get any at all.”

“Then he should be learning _how_ to get good attention. Chaos knows we’ve all at least hinted that to him.” Shadow shrugged. “Honestly, I think he just likes being as brash off skis as on. It’s made him a lot of enemies.”

“Not helping his own cause,” noted Sonic.

“Which is why I’ve always thought it best to focus on my own race. For me, distractions like Scourge’s are part of my mental course. If I overcome them, the physical course is easy.”

“I like that,” grinned Sonic. Then, after a moment snuggling the elder hedgehog softly, he added, “Thanks for defending me. Giving it to him straight.”

Shadow’s smile was rueful. “With him, and after this many years, there was no other option. Because,” he lowered his voice, “he’s not telling _my_ hedgehog what he can’t do.”

The expression on Sonic’s face was priceless – _mushy_ was what the young man himself would’ve called it. It arose from a great affection that prompted him to hug Shadow even more. “So..sky’s the limit?” he murmured. “Then my goal today is to kill it for _you_.” He leaned in to plant a deep kiss on Shadow’s cheek, before stating, “But first, bathroom.”

“Please, go,” chuckled Shadow through his blush.

Once Sonic vacated his space and left the room, Shadow flattened his palm against his blessed cheek. He smiled. That would never get old.

…Would kissing Sonic for real also be that way?

He’d told himself he was working towards it – hell, romantically touching Sonic was the biggest first step of his life. He was making progress over the past couple of weeks, having graduated to hand-holding, hugs, lying next to him through the night, as if they’d been cozy for years.

Something about a first kiss was more significant than all of that. Barrier-breaking, in a sense he couldn’t describe. Or was anxiety telling him so? He’d never kissed anyone. For all he knew, Sonic could compare their first to some other kiss he got. The boy did have truckloads of friends from school!

 _Not much rehearsing I can do_ , Shadow told himself, closing his eyes as he breathed deep. He’d have to wait for the right time and let it happen. Just as much as Sonic, he needed to prioritize the business of the day.

Across the hall, the bathroom door unlocked and opened. Sonic poked his head through their open door. “Need a hand?” he asked kindly.

Without further ado Shadow began to sit up and, though he felt fine, welcomed Sonic’s movement toward him. Breakfast was calling and a big race awaited.

He assured himself, _Only a matter of time_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. :D
> 
> Please bear with my attempt to write a minor conflict, which in all this time I hadn’t planned to do. Scourge’s role (though I expect it to be small) really grew beyond the name drop in chapter 1. 0_o Gotta chase him down somehow…
> 
> This fic will likely top out at 14 or 15 chapters; I’ll work on the next two together to hopefully give them a decent flow. So it might be at least another month before the next update. But I set out to write a fic that I knew I wanted to finish, and I won’t give up now!


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